


Drops of Red on Parchement

by HamiltonTrashPanda



Series: Drops of Red on Parchment Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Arguing, BAMF Hazel Levesque, BAMF Nico di Angelo, Blood and Gore, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Broken Bones, Demigods are not human and sometimes they fail to hide that, Dolores Umbridge is Her Own Warning, Dumbledore's Army, Eldritch, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description, I do not see, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minor Character Death, Near Death, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Not Canon Compliant - The Trials of Apollo, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queer Character, Threats of Violence, Torture, What do you mean that Jason Died
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamiltonTrashPanda/pseuds/HamiltonTrashPanda
Summary: When an owl, dappled with light brown spots and sporting intelligent eyes, flew through his window with a letter tied to her, late into the night, he knew who had called.---Albus Dumbeldore has requested aid from an old ally, and Chiron is forced to live up to the debt. He chooses a handful of Demigods to help in a war they have no stake in. But as the days trickle by, more may come to light, and demigods may be given something to fight for.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Artemis & Thalia Grace, Calypso & Leo Valdez, Harry Potter & Dolores Umbridge, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Jason Grace & Dolores Umbridge, Jason Grace & Piper Mclean & Draco Malfoy, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo & Hazel Levesque, Nico di Angelo & Hazel Levesque & Tom Riddle, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Piper McLean & Dolores Umbridge, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano & Dolores Umbridge, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano & Frank Zhang, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Series: Drops of Red on Parchment Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154243
Comments: 343
Kudos: 433





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Friends](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Friends).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I knew  
> This morning when I woke  
> Is I know something now  
> Know something now I didn't before"

#  _Part One: Letters of Debt_

_When a Letter arrives at Camp Half-Blood, A new quest begins..._

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

Song: Everything Has Changed, Taylor Swift

* * *

**I - Beach and Highlands**

**Early Summer**

* * *

Where blue waves meet gold sands, the home of the gods can be found.

They’re not gods exactly, however. Rather their children, their foot soldiers, and their guard. Half-mortal, half-god, oddities in both worlds they were a part of. Too eldritch for the world of mortals and far below even the most minor gods. A great centaur oversaw them, oversaw the teaching of ancient warfare. 

Thousands of miles away, in the highlands of Scotland, a grey brick castle watched over the green lands. Here, the young wizards and witches of The British Isles were taught spells and potions, oversaw by a man with a large beard, and half-moon spectacles. 

The great centaur was Chiron, child of Kronos and Philyra, The Titan King and an Oceanid. He had never met the great wizard, but they had spoken in the past. So when an owl, dappled with light brown spots and sporting intelligent eyes, flew through his window with a letter tied to her, late into the night, he knew who had called.

Dionysus, the god of revelry, wine, and of course, madness, watched from where he sat in front of a small fire, the main light source in the room. “Wizards?” He asked, eliciting a nod from Chiron. “How’d you get in contact with them?”

“A wizard helped me, many years ago, helped demigods. I owe him a great debt.” The trainer of heroes eyes darkened, “One, I believe, I’m being asked to repay.” He broke the blood-red seal of the envelope, before taking out the letter.

The handwriting was spindly and loopy, the handwriting of an older man. Chiron wondered how old the wizard must be for him to still be alive. As Chiron read the letter, his brow furrowed and his face darkened. This did not go unnoticed by the god.

Chiron felt Dionysus’s curious stare on his back so once he was done reading, Chiron handed the young god the parchment. Dionysus’s purple eyes read over the letter, flashing with anger as he finished.

“The man wants us to send demigods to help him? And not only demigods but some of the most powerful demigods to ever exist?” He balled up the letter and threw it into the fire behind him, but it strangely didn’t burn. “ _Fool_.” He hissed, not noticing the paper's strange state.

A fiery hand-formed, picking up the yellowing parchment. Soon enough the rest of the body formed, forming the body of Hestia, goddess of the hearth. She stepped out of the fire, and the young woman started to read the paper, the embers and ashes of the hearth sticking to her brown robes. The two gods in the room gave her a nod of acknowledgement. 

“I have to,” Chiron said, rubbing a hand over his face, “the-”

“Debt,” Dionysus spat, “I know.” 

“Perhaps,” Hestia said, speaking now that she had read over the letter, “This could be used to our advantage.” The other two immortals gave her a curious glance. “Think, we have been out of touch with them for centuries, and this could be our opportunity to gain vital information.”

“Have our people inform us of size, their government,” her warm eyes flashed, “Their power.”

“Are you saying,” Dionysus drawled, “That they pose a threat to us?”

Hestia gave him a long look. “They do not pose a threat to us, not a true one at least.” Her hand brushed over the ink on the parchment, “But this man's words _do concern me_. Cheating death, a dark wizard returned, a prophecy? Give them time and…” she paused, collecting her thoughts, “This could become a threat.”

The other immortals hummed in agreement as the conversation lulled. The only sound was the rustling of leaves and the crackle of the fire. Yet over these sounds more suddenly came: footsteps and the sound of fabric moving as someone walked. They turned to see the goddess of Magic, Hecate standing in the doorway, a cloak of black fur on her shoulders, her two torches hanging off her belt—a cord of braided leather.

“Lady Hecate,” Chiron said, dipping his head in acknowledgement of the goddess who was, like he, the child of a titan and a nymph. She bowed to Hestia and Dionysus, before taking the letter and reading it herself.

“Do you know anything about this Lady Hecate?” Chiron asked, wringing his hands as he watched her read. 

“Not much. The wizard and witches have long since left my worship, and I can seldom watch them any more. This is the closest I have been to my own creation since Dumbledore helped you Chiron.”

“And this,” Chiron paused, remembering the name, “ _Lord Voldemort_ , what do you know of him?”

The goddesses lip curled, her eyes turning dark. “A fool obsessed with a power he is not entitled to.” Her eyes glinted, “If the king has his way, Tom Riddle will burn in the fields of punishment for as long as he rules. He is destined to fail, no matter if that faux seer says there may be a chance of his victory.”

“If we know how the victory will fall, why must we help what is already going to happen?” Dionysus asked.

“But remember,” Chiron said, folding his hands, “They don’t know that. To them, this victory is unsure.” 

“So they’re asking us to provide them with aid?” Hestia scoffed. Her face suddenly turned soft, “And we’re not even thinking about what the demigods think of it.”

Her words hung in the room, suffocating and harsh, a reminder of the children that were being asked of. Asked to help a man they didn’t know, a world they held no connection to, a war they had no stake in.

The centaur sighed, thinking about two demigods in particular, neither of which he could imagine to be very happy at the news. “I’ll,” he sighed again, “I’ll have to tell them I can’t refuse, assure them this wasn’t my idea. That way,” his lip quirked, “I won’t have my head cleaved off.”

Chiron walked over to the table where the letter sat and read it one more time, committing it to memory. He then placed it in a drawer, locking it away, so it was, for at least a time, out of sight and out of mind.

* * *

**II - Bidding**

**Next Morning**

* * *

At twenty-year-old Percy Jackson awoke with a groan, his eyes blearily fluttering open.

Yawning, he turned over to see Annabeth Chase, his lovely girlfriend, still asleep next to him. He threw a lazy arm over her, before pulling her closer. She, in her sleep, snuggled closer, and Percy was drifting back into sleep when there was a loud knock at the door.

Groaning, he called, “Who is it?” 

“Jason.” Came the reply from outside the door.

“What do you want?” Annabeth said, having woken up by the knocking.

“Uhhh, can I come in?” Jason pressed.

“Fine,” Percy said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

Jason opened the door and handed Percy a note. Rubbing his eyes again, Percy started to read, Annabeth leaning over his shoulder so she could read as well.

_Please come to the Big House by 11. I have some news._

_-Chiron_

Percy looked at Jason. “What does he need?” Jason shrugged. 

“Wouldn’t tell me. Just told me to tell you, but,” Jason stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back as he continued, “He seemed hella concerned. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is,” Jason’s eyes darkened, “It can’t be good.”

Jason turned, then left, closing the door behind him, the trouble of it all never once leaving his face. 

Annabeth stretched, getting out of bed. She fished some clothes out of the dresser as Percy flopped back unto the bed, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair. “What do you think is going on?” He said softly, anxiety taking over him.

He couldn’t see Annabeth’s face but he could almost picture the way her face pinched up. “I don’t know,” she said, straightening up. She glanced at him, “But it doesn’t sound good.”

Percy hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. He felt Annabeth kiss his forehead, and tell him she was going to shower, before hearing the sound of a door shutting and then seconds later, the sound of the shower being turned on. 

Ten Fifty-Five found them, hand in hand jogging to the big house, both having showered and eaten breakfast. They climbed the big house steps, and Percy opened the door letting Annabeth go in first.

They entered the rec-room, which was tense and silent, the only sound being Leo Valdez tinkering with something on the table. Silently they sat down taking in the other people in the room.

There was Jason Grace and his girlfriend Piper McLean, sitting next to Leo and the ex-Titaness Calypso. Next to them, Nico di Angelo was sitting with his boyfriend Will Solace, and surprisingly, the two huntresses Reyna Ramírez Arellano and Thalia Grace, still clad in their silver getup.

The final two people in the room besides Percy and Annabeth were Frank Zhang, and Nico’s sister Hazel Levesque. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the person who had called them here to arrive. From the hall, they heard the sound of hooves on wood and straightened up, focused on the news.

Chiron stepped into the room and dropped a pile of papers on the table. The thud seemed to echo in the room—a transition to something new.

Chiron spoke for the first time, his voice strained, “I received a letter late last night.” The room perked up. “From someone who helped me many, many years ago. This letter, which I have copied for each of you,” he gestured to the pile of papers, “Details the troubles of his world, and asks for my help.”

Chiron’s eyes darkened. “In other words, he needs your help.”

Annabeth’s eyes were glimmering with a wave of dark anger, “Who is this man?” She crossed her arms, and Chiron gestured to the papers, insinuating that her answer laid there. Percy grabbed two copies of the letter, handing one to her. She read the letter, and her anger turned to confusion.

The rest of the group was reading, and quiet gasps of shock and surprise-filled the room. After a few minutes, the room turned to their teacher for answers. Chiron sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He looked up to his students, his brown eyes showing a deep sympathy, and launched into his story.

He didn’t tell them the story of the debt, but he told them the stories of the birth of the wizarding race, men and women blessed by Hecate to wield magic. He told them of the dark ages, where wizards and witches were hunted and killed, and eventually the forming of a government and the establishment of the school. He told them of Voldemort's rise to power, and the prophecy and what he knew of the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.

He told them what he knew of the school, which was, to say the least, very little. Then with dark eyes, he told them the details of their quest.

“Dumbledore wants you to provide aid in the war effort. I am not expecting you to use all your time and energy for this, just to do enough that he thinks you're helping. Above all though, I would like you to research.”

“Figure out their magic, their numbers, how their government works. Lady Hecate will try and obtain some school books for you, so you can pass as American Transfer students. She will make you wands and above all, change your ages.”

Protests rose immediately, silenced when Chiron raised his hand and spoke “She will be making most of you look around the age of fifteen. You may become a bit shorter, tattoos may be removed,” Glancing at the tattoos that covered both of Percy’s arms. He made a face. “Softening features, making you look generally younger.”

“Mr Jackson, Miss Chase, you will be seventeen.” 

“Why?” Annabeth said, crossing her arms again.

“There are people in the seventh year, which consists mainly of seventeen-year-olds, who are of interest to us. Plus it may be helpful to have people who are legal adults in the wizarding world on hand.” Chiron said.

Leo furrowed his brow, “Wait he asked for, your most powerful demigods, right? So he knows us, so wouldn’t be suspicious if we were multiple years younger than were supposed to be?”

Chiron smiled, “Despite how _Albus_ ,” when Chiron spoke the name, it dripped with poison and anger, “may make it seem, he knows very little of us. He has likely heard rumours of a group of super-powerful demigods, but none of those I can see counting in age. For all he knows, those people have long since retired and you all are the new generation.”

“How much are we supposed to tell him about us?” Hazel asked, “Or anyone we meet for that matter?”

“As little as possible, Miss Levesque.” A new voice spoke from the doorway. They all turned to see Hecate, in the same clothes as the night before. 

“Lady Hecate!” Hazel said, smiling at her mentor, who returned the gesture with a warm, genuine smile. 

“I bring wands and books.” She snapped her fingers and in front of everyone appeared three books, and a long, thin box.

She pointed to each book, “This one,” she said pointing to the thick book on the bottom, with a red cover, “Covers the basic things you will need to know. This one,” a thinner blue book, ''covers some of the things about the wizarding world, including blood statuses, sports, animals, the government. And this one,” she picked up a thin brown book, “Is a history of the school. I managed to get these, but I will not be able to help any more than this and what Chiron has already mentioned.”

“Why?” Hazel asked.

Her face turned sad, “The world that stems from the mortals I blessed has forgotten me, forgotten where they came from. I hold little power over this world, and I struggle to blend in there.” She picked up a box and offered it to Percy silently.

Percy took the box, taking off the lid to see the wand. It was rather long, made of light wood, with a handle carved in a way that made it perfect to hold easily. The wood was cool against his fingers. Hecate handed out the rest of the wands. 

They thanked the goddess, who waved off the praise, not needing it, before departing. They talked about the quest and what they had to do, but unsaid things still hung like an uncomfortable weight in the room.

Finally, Annabeth blurted out the main question that had been nagging everyone, “For how long will we be on this quest?”

Chiron took a deep breath, preparing himself for the reactions, “The length of one school year.”

The room was silent enough that a pin drop could be heard. Faces were pale, jaws were dropped, and people looked more stunned than angry.

Finally, the silence broke when Percy groaned, leaning back in his chair as he muttered curses. The rest of the group grumbled, but the reaction was better than Chiron had thought it would be.

“Any breaks?” Hazel asked, her gold eyes narrowed.

“There’s Winter break,” Chiron supplied. “You will come home, I promise.”

Details were cleared up, timelines were set, plans were made. They had the summer to learn about the wizarding world, make a backstory, and memorize that backstory. 

No pressure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you ride that train to the end of the line  
> Where the sun don't shine and it's always shady  
> It's there you'll find the king of the mine  
> Almighty Mr. Hades!"

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Song: Road to Hell, Cast of Hadestown

* * *

**III - Scarlette and Steam**

**Late August**

* * *

September 1st came like a sudden wind to the demigods, and before they knew it, they were in London, at its main station, Kings Cross St. Pancras, ready to depart to their destination in the highlands.

They found the place they would enter the platform easily enough, arriving very early to avoid large crowds of wizards, which had become a very good idea after they travelled to the place known as Diagon Alley to get their school supplies. 

It had been earlier in the morning when they had gone, desperate to not find themselves lost in large groups of wizards quite yet. And the day had gone rather well, at first.

First, they’d all gone to the robe shop to get fitted for their uniforms. The tailor, having been informed of their arrival by the headmaster, had taken them in, and once they were all done, told them to come back the next day to pick up their robes. Then, they’d split into groups, each one tasked to tackle one of the things on their supply list.

Annabeth, Percy, Reyna and Thalia had gone to the bookshop to get their books, and that’s when the day started going downhill. All of them dyslexic, it took a rather long time to even find the books they needed.

Then they’d received grumbles about them holding up the line, having bought twelve copies of each book, for the nine classes they needed to take. The shopkeep had been cheery and polite, but the wizards behind them weren’t happy to be waiting in line for well over ten minutes.

Hazel had rather good luck getting the group two owls for whatever letters they needed to send. The owls were named Argo, after their ship, and Janus because Leo thought it would be absolutely hilarious to name the short-tempered owl after the border god.

Argo was a deep brown, with speckles of bronze and black all over her. Her eyes were a deep yellow, not unlike Hazel’s gold. Janus was a black owl, with white spots on his face and near his talons. He took a strange liking to none other than Percy, seemingly indifferent that he an owl, the bird of Athena, was cuddling up to a song of Poseidon, her sworn enemy. 

Frank had gotten the cauldrons, but returned angry, insisting that the shopkeep hated him, and had made his very simple job much harder than it needed to be.

They got a quick meal at a restaurant in the alley, then set off for more things.

Hazel had gotten the potion supplies and ran into a foul-tempered man, with silver-blonde hair, who kept trying to make conversation with her and seemed very very curious about her. 

They’d gotten the rest of their supplies, but the main hiccup of the day had arisen when they stopped at the ice cream parlour for some well-deserved ice cream.

A large group of giggling girls had entered the shop, almost immediately noticing, to no one's surprise, Jason and Percy. Percy, to even less surprise, didn’t notice the girls as they giggled and pointed, too absorbed in a conversation with Calypso and Annabeth to even notice or care.

Jason, and Piper as well, did notice, however.

Jason ducked his head, pulling his Camp Jupiter sweatshirt over his head, turning away from the group to join a conversation, and spare himself from the embarrassment. Piper just watched the girls, her eyes shifting between dark browns and reds until the girls stopped the chatter.

The incident wasn’t the worst thing they’d dealt with, but the giggles and high pitched chatter of the girl did annoy all of them tenfold. It was so jarring, seeing kids be kids, so uncommon in the world of the gods. Immaturity was allowed in their world. It was only a matter of how long that could last. This entire world as a whole was young and immature. Snide glands and words were heard all over Diagon Alley. It seemed that everyone hated everyone.

But now in Kings Cross, they reached the pillar, and unsure as to the magic or hiddenness of the entrance, Hazel volunteered to go last, manipulating the mist around them as they entered. 

She closed her eyes and _thought_.

The mist came to her, and she warped it, making it seem like they had never been there. She attempted to make so if there were wizards in the area, they would be able to see through her illusions, hoping for no confusion.

She didn’t know if it worked, but once her friends were all gone, she stepped into the wall, letting her illusions fall. She came through the other side and stopped, taking in the world she had stepped into.

The platform was practically empty, maybe ten other wizards on the platform. There was a great Scarlett train waiting, and she assumed that was how they would get to the school.

“Well,” Percy said, eyeing the train, “Shall we?” He gestured to a door nearby, one that would allow them access to the train.

Nods passed, no one quite sure what to say. Some of them were missing a year of college for this quest. But additionally, this was their first quest in almost three years, and the anxiety was high.

It didn’t help that they were now in unfamiliar bodies.

They were all shorter, slightly less muscled, much more youthful than they were a week prior. The greatest change was in Percy and Annabeth, who looked eerily like they had when she had first met them. An angry red scratch was missing from the side of his face.

They boarded the train, looking for a compartment that could fit them all. They found a large one at the back of the train, large enough to fit the group of twelve rather comfortably, along with their luggage.

They each had packed two trunks, one mainly for clothing and the other for their supplies and books. The trunks were all rather large, but the contents in them didn’t seem to fill them up all the way.

That was because their trucks, all twenty-four of them, had been made to have false bottoms. Below these false bottoms, sat supplies to keep their weapons sharp, tools to make greek fire and any other explosive, their weapons, first aid supplies, and most of all, a compact set of armour, just in case.

The armour, charmed by the Hecate cabin, was able to be shrunk down by the press of a button, allowing it to fit in the luggage. If they were to press the button again, the armour would return to its normal size.

That wasn’t the only gadget they had on hand. Chiron had been wary of an attack against them, and unsure as to the safety of the world so he’d asked Annabeth and Leo to put their heads together and come up with a light, portable weapon.

They came up with a rather awesome pair of boots. At a command word, which was decided on by the wearer, a blade would come out of the sole of the boot, on both ends. Depending on the command used, it would be either foot, along with an assortment of metals. Each boot had a steel blade set, a Celestial Bronze set, and an Olympian Silver set, should they run into any werewolf.

Nico and Hazel also had Stygian Iron blades in their boots, charmed to send the victims soul straight to the underworld, not unlike Nico’s blade.

Chiron’s wariness and protectiveness of them may have been a bit overbearing and concerning, but it was because of that they were entering the school not only heavily armed but able to access blades in seconds if need be.

Leo wasn’t allowed to wear his toolbelt, to the dismay of him, but Percy had riptide on hand, easily accessible. Nico had his sword and his ring, Thalia had her shield and spear, and they were continuously coming up with creative ways to hide their weapons in plain sight.

A ring there, a necklace here. 

But there were some less subtle, but much easier to get to backups. Each of them had been given a pair of steel daggers, to be hidden in their easy-to-hide-weapons-in robes. They were gorgeous, with polished steel blades, and handles made of black wood, and stained leather strips giving them grip. 

Each of them was blessed and given names, the names of gods and the great heroes of old. Heracles did not get a blade named after him, and Jason was not planning to name one after Juno, but Chiron said it would likely be in his... _best interests_.

So not only did they have a mass amount of weapons on them at any given time, but they also had some comfort stemming from the blessing of their weapons. So at the back of the Hogwarts express, there seemed a group of American transfers but little did anyone know, these Americans were not what they seemed.

They were on the train, waiting as people boarded for over an hour, having arrived comically early. They glimpsed through the windows all sorts of people, like a large group of redheads, or a family of silver blondes.

Finally, at eleven o’clock on the dot, the train began to leave. Outside their door, the demigods could hear chatter and assumed people were still finding places to sit.

It was a rather high voice of a boy that caught their attention. They couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but his voice just screamed pompous and rich. Percy noticeably bristled, having had multiple run-ins with people like that his entire life.

They heard the door open and they all looked to see a teenager, standing in the doorway, enraged at the sight before him. His hair was silver-blonde, like the family they had seen on the platform, his eyes a silver-grey, noticeably more blue compared to Annabeth’s. 

“What are you lot doing here?” He cried, and they all knew instantly that this was the boy with the pompous voice they had heard.

It was Nico, with his arms crossed over his body, and his silver skull ring glinting in the light, that replied, his dark eyes narrowing as he did, “Minding our own business, which I’m going to assume _you_ don’t know how to do. Who the hell are you, anyway?”

The boy seemed surprised when he heard Nico’s voice, “You’re one of those _American_ transfers, aren’t you? And I’m Draco. Draco _Malfoy_.” He accentuated his name, pressing importance the group didn’t know.

Nico smiled, “ _Actually_ , Draco, I’m _Italian_.”

Malfoys eyes narrowed, the hostile air around him becoming thick. “You’re in my compartment.”

“Don’t see your name on it,” Percy commented, leaning back slightly.

“I don’t need my name on it, for it to be mine, _Yank_.” he snarled.

“What is this,” Percy asked, looking around the compartment, “1776?” 

Malfoy straightened up, and called out, “Crabbe, Goyle.”

“Calling on your lackeys, eh?” Thalia commented, “Real mature.”

Draco ignored the jab as two boys, both built like high school defensive tackles, stepped forward. They levelled glares that would have probably sent anyone else scrambling, but they weren’t anyone else.

The group exchanged grins, and just as one of the boys stepped forward, Percy stood up. He was well over six foot, taller than both of these, rather tall, boys, and with the brawn and glare to match.

The three boys blanched and left rather quickly, not quite running, but not walking either. As the door slammed behind them and Percy sat down, the group burst into laughter.

And as the train pressed on, they came closer to their quest.

* * *

**IV - New**

**An Hour Later**

* * *

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was having a bad day.

First, there was the stinksnap incident, and now he was stuck with Neville, Ginny, and a ditzy girl he barely knew while his two best friends paraded the hallways.

He leaned back into his chair, frustration brewing, as he finished his pumpkin pasties. His only solace was that Malfoy was yet to show.

Finally, Ron and Hermione arrived, but his good mood was soured when he saw their faces. Hermione flopped unto her chair, giving Luna a once over before giving a loud huff.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

Ron rolled his eyes, opening a chocolate frog, and gesturing for Hermione to answer. 

“There are two prefects for each house, boy and girl, right?” She asked, and once Harry nodded, she continued, “Take a wild guess whose Slytherins?”

Harry’s stomach sank, “Malfoy?”

Hermione’s face of disgust said it all, “And that girl Pansy Parkinson.” Ron said as Hermione took some food.

“Hufflepuff?”

“Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot,” Ron said with an eye roll.

“And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” Hermione said.

“You went to the ball with her, no?” Came the ditzy voice of Luna, looking at Ron from the top of her magazine. “She didn’t enjoy it.”

Ron went red, “Oh, well, um…” He trailed off. He glanced at Ginny, who was trying to contain her laughter from behind her hand.

“We’re supposed to patrol the corridors,” Ron said after a few minutes of quiet, “Give out punishments and such. Can’t wait to snag Crabbe and Goyle for something.” He continued, wist overcoming his voice.

Hermione gave him a sharp look, “You’re not supposed to abuse your position!”

“Yeah, Like Malfoy won’t.”

“And stoop down to his level?” Hermione asked, shutting him up.

The conversation lulled, coming back up again when Ron made a joke about Goyle writing lines, which caused Luna to howl with laughter. Harry found the chance to read a rather funny article about his godfather.

After a tense exchange between Hermione and Luna, Ron spoke up, “Did you hear about the American transfers?”

Harry whirled towards his friend in surprise, “What?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, “Some American transfers. No one knows where they’re from.”

“Oh.”

“Malfoy was talking about how he’d met them personally, and how he’s known them all for months.” Ron scoffed.

“Did you see them?” Neville asked.

“Only a glimpse,” Hermione said, her brow furrowing as she crossed her arms, “They’re staying to themselves in the back…” She trailed off as something caught her eyes in the corridor, “And there’s two of them outside our door right now.”

Harry looked out the window on the door and caught his first glimpse. One of them had his back to him, and all Harry could see of him was dark hair, shorn on the sides and long on top, and dark skin. But the one he could spot more of blew him away.

It was an older girl, likely in the seventh year. Her hair was blonde and pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes were grey like Malfoys, but much darker and sharper, even from a distance Harry could tell that. Her skin was sun-kissed, and when she gave the other exchange a small smile, Harry had to think that he was one of the most gorgeous people had seen.

He turned away for a moment, and his eyes landed on Ginny, who was watching him curiously. For a second, he thought she was as, if not more, pretty than the girl he’s seen just then, but he pushed the thoughts away quickly.

“Wonder what house they’ll be in?” Hermione said, watching the two outside their door.

Ron wrinkled his nose, “Hopefully not Slytherin.”

Sounds of agreement flitted around the compartment and the train pressed on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll let the darkness swallow me whole  
> I need to find you, need you to know  
> I'll be your friend in the daylight again  
> There we will be, like an old enemy  
> Like the salt and the sea...  
> From the destruction, out of the flame  
> You need a villain, give me a name  
> I'll be your friend in the daylight again  
> There we will be, like an old enemy"

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Song: Salt and the Sea, The Lumineers

* * *

**V - Stitch and Tear**

**Evening**

* * *

Harry looked up to the ceiling, never having been so glad to see Hogwarts. It was just as he remembered, with the candles and the ceiling that looked like the stars.

He was a little off-put by the Umbridge woman sitting in the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher’s chair, and Hagrids absence, but he decided to ignore that for now, because he was back home now, and nothing could spoil his mood.

The doors to the hall opened as Professor Grubbly-Plank sat down, and in came the first years, led by a tight-lipped Professor McGonagall.

He caught a glimpse of the exchanges, standing behind the first years, towering over all of them as they exchanged glances and whispered to one another. He caught a glimpse of the girl from the train, and her companion, a tall boy with black hair and green eyes, strikingly similar to Harry himself. 

McGonagall put the sorting hat on the stool, and the room fell silent as they waited. The brim of the sorting hat ripped open as it started to sing, and Harry felt his good mood fall in moments, as he took in the song:

_“In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world’s best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_‘Together we will build and teach!’_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, ‘We’ll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest.’_

_Said Ravenclaw, ‘We’ll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest.’_

_Said Gryffindor, ‘We’ll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,’_

_Said Hufflepuff, ‘I’ll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same.’_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while, it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last, there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I’m for,_

_But this year I’ll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still, I worry that it’s wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still, I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our, Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we’ll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you …_

_Let the Sorting now begin.”_

The sound of The Great Hall rose with a polite clapping, punctured with an unusual amount of chatter, as it seemed no one had expected the strange and ominous song.

The exchanges were watching the sorting hat with narrowed eyes, and Harry did not miss the looks they traded.

The first years were sorted, and Dumbledore spoke, “As you all likely know by this point, we are welcoming twelve American transfer students this year.” He turned to McGonagall, “They will be sorted now.”

McGonagall nodded and pulled out another scroll before reading out;

“Chase, Annabeth.”

The girl from the train, Annabeth, stepped forward, her head high and a smirk on her lips as she sat down and the hat was placed on her head.

The sorting hat, after a moment, yelled, “RAVENCLAW!” 

The house burst into applause instantly and Annabeth, head still held high, walked over to the table, where she sat and watched her companions.

Next was “di Angelo, Nico.” a boy with pale skin and dark eyes and hair that would look right at home among the Slytherins. To the hall's surprise, he was put into Hufflepuff. His friends snickered as he scowled, his tie becoming a bright yellow that Harry assumed he didn’t like. He sat a ways away from the rest of his house, crossing his arms as the polite clapping ceased and the next person was called. 

“Grace, Jason.” The group clapped him on the back as he stepped forward and the hat was put on his head. A minute passed before, it yelled, “GRYFFINDOR”

Harry burst into applause and the boy jogged over, sitting not too far from Harry, Ron and Hermione, next to the Weasley twins. They clapped him on the back and Harry noticed him blush a bit, likely embarrassed by the attention.

Next up, “Grace, Thalia”. Jason winced when the surname was said, giving the girl a look as her eyes narrowed. Yet she still stepped forward and was sorted into, to Harry’s joy, Gryffindor. 

Ron elbowed him, “No Slytherins so far!”

Hermione shushed him as the next person was called up.

Jackson, Perseus, was the tall guy he’d seen on the train. His hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail at some point and he grinned as he stepped forward, his friends smirking at him as he sat down. The Sorting Hat was put on his head, and the Great Hall waited with bated breath as it thought.

Then its brim ripped open and it yelled, “SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherins roared with cheers and applause and the boy’s grin dropped for just a moment but came back seconds later. He spared a glance at the Ravenclaw table, before walking over. Harry watched him go and noticed he sat somewhat near Malfoy.

Was what Malfoy said, actually _true_?

The next girl, Levesque, Hazel, was sorted into Hufflepuff, and she sat next to the other boy Nico, elbowing him as he continued to scowl.

Next up was one of the most beautiful people in the group, McLean, Piper. Harry found himself hoping she would be in his house, and judging from Jason's face he hoped that too.

The brim opened. Jason leaned forward. “SLYTHERIN!” It yelled.

Jason's face fell, and Harry noticed Thalia give him a glance of pity as he watched the girl walk over to the Slytherin table, sitting next to Jackson. Harry wondered why he seemed so crushed.

The next person, Olympia, Calypso was put into Hufflepuff, followed by Ramírez-Arellano, Reyna who was put into Ravenclaw, finally giving each house two transfers. The next guy, Solace, Will, was sorted into Hufflepuff as well, which seemed to brighten Nico’s mood in an instant, as he sat next to his friends.

Next up was Valdez, Leo, who was almost instantly sorted into Ravenclaw. Harry glanced at the Ravenclaw table, where the two transfers who had been sorted into that house were both putting their heads in their hands, likely groaning as he sat down with them.

The final person, Zhang, Frank sat on the stool, nervously wringing my hands. He was built like Crabbe and Goyle but had a far kinder face. Finally, the Sorting Hat yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” causing the house to roar.

He sat with his friends and Dumbledor called for the feast to begin as Jason clapped Frank on the back. The food appeared, and the hall tucked in.

Over dinner, Harry heard the Weasley twins chat up the newcomers. The girl, Thalia, was obviously and pointedly not listening, but both Jason and Frank were amiable and turned out to be pretty cool. 

Meanwhile, Harry and his friends were talking to Nearly Headless Nick about the strange song the Sorting Hat had sung.

“Of course,” The ghost was saying, “It lives in Dumbledore's office. It must pick up on some things.”

“And it wants the houses to get along?” Harry scoffed, glancing at the Slytherin table where Malfoy was chatting up the newcomers, “Fat chance.”

“Why do you say that?” A new voice cut in.

Harry turned to see Jason Grace watching him, seemingly having listened in on their conversation. “Well,” Harry explained, “The Slytherins are horrible to us. They always say they’re better than us, and Malfoys the worst of them.”

“Oh yes,” Thalia said, “The blonde weasel.” She stabbed her meat rather hard, startling Neville, who hadn’t been paying attention.

“You know him?” Hermione asked.

“We ran into the dude on the train,” Frank explained.

“Ah.”

“But,” Jason pressed, “Would it be that hard to get along?”

“Yes,” Ron said, finality in his voice. 

“Did you have houses at your old school?” Hermione asked. The transfers exchanged a glance.

“Sorta…” Jason said, “It’s more complicated but in a way, yes.”

“Well were there any groups that didn’t get along?”

Frank and Jason exchanged a glance, “Not really-” Jason began.

Thalia cut in, looking curiously at Jason, “You say that like Clarisse and Percy don’t try to kill each other every time they see one another.”

“They pretend to be rivals for the drama, _dear_. They can work together when they need to.”

“When they need too,” Thalia pressed.

“And you and Percy are any different?” Frank asked, not looking at her.

Thalia paused, the words sinking in, “Fair point.” She said, ending the argument.

“So, no?” Hermione asked, having listened, but not quite understood. 

“Yeah.” Jason said, grinning at her, “I mean there are rivalries, but they’re all friendly and very rarely end in bad things. Except for the time Cabin-Five practically blew up Cabin- Eleven…” He commented.

The group didn’t notice the horrified stares of the other Gryffindors, but all exchanged smirks, “The Stolls were asking for it,” Thalia said, her voice slightly sing-songy.

“They always are,” Jason said, smiling.

Harry glanced at the teacher’s table, and his eyes caught on the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney. Her bug-like eyes seemed to go between only three people, Thalia Grace, Nico di Angelo, and Percy Jackson.

Thalia, having noticed his stare, looked at the teacher, and once noticing who she was looking at seemed to pale, before turning back to her food, ducking her head. Twelawnys head tilted a bit, and Harry filed it away for later.

Additionally, Frank was glancing at the Umbridge woman every few moments. The two girls at the Ravenclaw table, Harry noticed, seemed to be having a similar reaction, and Harry could see them talking to each other in hushed whispers.

* * *

**VI - Blood**

**10 Minutes Later**

* * *

Over at the Slytherin table, Percy Jackson and Piper McLean were trying to enjoy their dinner, but the Malfoy boy was making it very very hard.

He kept on preaching how he was sure that Percy would be in his house the second he stepped up on the train, and how only the best people were in the house of the snake.

He gave at least a hundred subtle digs at their friends, most towards the Graces and Frank, the ones who had been sorted into Gryffindor. He also complimented Piper multiple times, turning up the charm as he attempted to flirt with her.

The daughter of Aphrodite was not amused, and she could almost picture her half-sister Drew Tanaka twitching as he failed harder and harder.

There was also Pansy Parkinson, who was batting her eyes at Percy every five and a half seconds. Percy just chooses to ignore her, glad that whenever he looked up, he could catch a glimpse of Annabeth, despite the table between them.

Percy looked around the hall finding his friends. Will had his arm around Nico, who was still sulking at the Hufflepuff table. Hazel was talking, the rest of them listening politely. Over at the Gryffindor table, Jason, Thalia, and Frank were talking with their housemates and what looked like a ghost.

And at the Ravenclaw table, Annabeth was sat, talking to Reyna, stealing glances at the teacher table, specifically the woman in pink. Leo was sat with them, tinkering with something as he ate.

“What's your blood status anyway?” Malfoys voice cut through his thoughts.

Piper eyed him, eyes swirling, “Half-Blood.” 

Malfoys face fell and Percy fought a snicker, which the blonde noticed. “What?” he said sharply.

Percy’s reply was a look that had the boy sinking back into his seat. He fought down the burning desire to see his fist connect with the punk’s jaw, not wanting to cause a scene.

The meals disappeared and the headmaster stood again, ready to make speeches. Percy made sure to just stare at him, hoping the headmaster could feel his annoyance if he did. The man was halfway through talking about tryouts for the wizard sport, Quidditch, when a sound cut him off.

Dumbledore looked inquiringly at the woman in pink, who Percy learned was called Professor Umbridge, he was staring at him expectantly. The hall fell into a dead silence. The headmaster had a moment of shock before he sat down, folding his hands in front of him as he looked at Umbridge politely.

The rest of the teaching staff seemed much more surprised, exchanging glances and pressing their lips into thin lines, as the woman began her speech.

“Thank you, headmaster,” Percy winced, her voice far too high pitched for his liking, “For those kind words of welcome.” Percy exchanged a glance with Piper, as he leaned back and listened.

* * *

VII - Stars

* * *

“Nico, look at me,” Will said next to him.

Not looking at him, just continued to pick at his food, appetite gone. Pushing the food around, eyes focused on nothing. He felt their eyes on him, crushing and weighty. Little sharp knives.

“Nico please eat.” Someone said, light and feathery voice, golden and bright.

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbled.

“Okay,” Will said, voice giving his defeat away. “Okay.” Sighing.

A grating, shrill voice was speaking. Nico could hear the scratches of talons against stone again. A shiver racked his body.

The lights overhead were bright, glimmering stars. Nico did not like stars. 

Who could?

* * *

**VIII - Murmurs**

* * *

Annabeth was talking to Reyna.

They were both concerned about one of the Professors, both trusting their instincts telling them that this woman was no good.

And then she interrupted the headmaster.

Now, Dumbledore wasn’t exactly revered by the demigods. He had called them on this quest and uprooted them from the lives they were living. But this just seemed rude. And Annabeth had the sneaking suspicion that what this woman, Umbridge, was trying to do wasn’t normally done.

And her speech, it made Annabeth's stomach curl in all the wrong ways. Reyna was watching the woman like a huntress watching her prey. Her dark brows were furrowed and her eyes narrowed. 

“Well, it’s lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” Annabeth winced at the voice, “And how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling up at me!” Annabeth looked around to see no one smiling, “I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends.”

Leo snorted, “In your wildest dreams.”

She continued, “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards of vital importance. The rare gifts which you were born with may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction.”

“You’re telling me,” Annabeth muttered.

“The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.” She gave a sort of bow to the other teachers, to which the teachers replied with stares.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . .” 

The hall was growing restless, yet Umbridge did not notice. Annabeth and Reyna, though, their eyes like hawks, hung on to every word, taking it in. 

Annabeth let her attention dwindle for a moment as she glanced at Percy, trusting that Reyna was listening. He met her eyes and they both gave each other a long look, in which a thousand words passed in an instant.

Percy had noticed it too.

Annabeth turned her attention back, “. . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Reyna and Annabeth exchanged a horrified glance as soft applause broke out. Annabeth’s stomach was shifting.

Reyna glared at the table, her voice venomous as she spoke, “She’s like Octavian all over again. Powerful, manipulative, and very, very good with words.”

“This isn’t good,” Leo said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the headmaster, who continued his speech. 

“No, it’s not,” Annabeth said darkly as the school was dismissed and students stood up around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple notes:  
> -There are direct quotations from R*wlings work in this chapter and one other. Now I do not like her in the slightest, but I must give credit  
> -Houses are as follows:  
> Slytherin: Piper and Percy  
> Gryffindor: Jason, Thalia, and Frank  
> Ravenclaw: Annabeth, Reyna, and Leo  
> Hufflepuff: Nico, Hazel, Calypso, and Will


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's better to feel pain, than nothing at all  
> The opposite of love is indifference  
> So pay attention now  
> I'm standing on your porch screamin' out  
> And I won't leave until you come downstairs"

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Song: Stubborn Love, The Lumineers

* * *

**IX - Tension**

**Later that Evening**

* * *

Piper and Percy were walking the dorms when she felt a hand take her wrist.

She whirled, reaching for knives, to see Jason standing there smiling at her. She laughed, hugging him instead of cleaving his head off. When she pulled back, he gave her a chaste kiss.

“What was that for?”

“Goodnight.”

Piper smiled, giving him one more kiss before parting. Their hands were the last thing to separate and they waved to one another as they left for their separate dormitories. 

Piper had to jog to catch up to Percy, slowing down to meet his pace as she did. Percy gave her a grin, wiggling his eyebrows, causing Piper to turn away, blushing. Percy threw an arm around her, as they continued down to their dormitories. They did notice the stares on their backs but chose to ignore them.

They finally arrived and were told that they would find a room with their names on it, by a greasy-haired man, who was the head of the Slytherin house. He had a deep voice and almost spoke with a purr that sent shivers up Piper’s spine. His name was Severus Snape.

Once he was done, Piper headed to the girl’s side of the dormitories quickly finding her room. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. 

The room was medium-sized, with a large four-poster bed with green silk curtains and bedsheets. There was a dark wood desk in the corner, and the room was lit by four candelabras that hung from the walls. There was a green rug in the centre, tapestries with snakes on the walls, and a dresser for clothes, along with a closet.

Piper took in the room, noticing that her two trunks, along with the extra backpack she had brought were already in her room. Sparing a longing glance at the soft bed, she opened her first trunk. She took out the normal clothes she had brought, putting the shirts in one drawer and pants in the other. She did the same with her sleepwear. 

She hung her spare uniform pieces, taking off her tie and putting it on her dresser. Her first trunk was empty of the things it needed to be empty of, so she put it in the closet. The next trunk had more of her personal things.

She found that there was a built-in bookshelf right above the desk, carved into the stone. She placed her textbooks, quills, inkwells, and parchment on a shelf, the bottom one. On the upper two, she put some books on Greek and Cherokee myths there, along with multiple framed photos.

There were photos of her sister Drew and her, her and Jason, Her and Annabeth, Her and Leo, among others. Her favourite was one of her dad and her, right after she returned from her first year at camp, and he had taken her to get some In N Out.

Smiling, she placed that photo on the shelf, before stepping back and looking at it. She heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” she said, assuming it was Percy.

She turned to see a fellow Slytherin, the Pansy girl looking at her. “Uh, hi,” Piper said awkwardly.

“Hello,” Pansy said, looking around.

“I noticed you kissed a Gryffindor,” Pansy commented.

_So that’s what this is about_ , Piper thought.

She crossed her arms, “Yes, and?”

“Well you know, us Slytherins don’t interact with Gryffindors. It’s not how things are done around here.” Pansy sniffed.

Piper eyed her, hissing out, “If you are going to tell me to break up with him, I’m going to ask you to leave _Pansy_.”

“Fine,” Pansy said, turning away, waving Piper off. Just before she left, she met her eyes, “But you’ll come to your senses eventually.” The door shut.

Piper rolled her eyes and continued to unpack. There was another knock at the door. “Who is it?” She groaned.

“You’re favourite person ever,” Came the familiar voice of Percy Jackson.

Piper rolled her eyes, “Come in.”

She heard the door open and assumed from Percy silence he was taking in her room. “Nice pad,” He said.

Piper turned to him, “Thanks. You know that girl Pansy?” Percy nodded, “The bitch tried to get me to break up with Jason because apparently, that’s not how things are done around here. Do you think she knows that she sounds like she came straight out of some cliche high school movie?”

Percy rolled his eyes, “Probably not.” 

“Are you done unpacking your stuff?”

“Yeah, I didn’t bring as much personal stuff.” He glanced at the tapestries, “They really want you to know you’re in Slytherin don’t they?”

“Yep. What did you bring?”

“Some pictures, my minotaur horn, some records and my record player.” Piper smiled, giving him a look.

“Your minotaur horn? Really, Jackson?”

Percy grinned, “Sentimental value.”

Piper nodded as she dragged the now-empty second trunk into the closet, next to the other one. “How’re your weapons?” He asked, tilting his head towards the trunks.

“Haven’t checked,” she told him, as she opened the fake bottom. Checking to make sure nothing was broken, she went to the other one, gave the stuff a once over, before replacing the false bottoms.

“Goodnight,” He said.

“Night."

* * *

**X - Fireside Talk**

* * *

“That woman is legitimately the strongest reminder as to why I am a hunter,” Thalia said, slinking into the plush red couch.

Jason groaned, thinking about the pink wearing woman, “Don’t remind me.”

Frank, who was sitting at the other chair around the fire the three were gathered at, sighed, “I don’t like what this may mean. I’ll have to check with Annabeth or Reyna but…” he trailed off for a moment, “This is concerning.”

The three of them were some of the few left in the common room, aside from a handful of lingering seventh years. The fire they sat around was dwindling and the three of them, already in their pyjamas, would likely retire to bed soon.

But they were all plagued with the nagging thoughts surrounding the speech they had heard earlier. The cadence, the word choice, the message, it threw them off.

“She’s like Octavian,” Jason moaned, rubbing his temples.

Thalia looked at him, “Explain.”

“Good with words, good at swaying you, good at getting a crowd talking,” He moaned, “I thought I was done listening to people like him.”

“Jason,” Frank sighed, “Unfortunately you can never escape the Octavians.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You’ve said that like three times, Jason,” Thalia commented.

“Shut up, Thalia,” Jason leaned back again, rubbing his hands over his face.

* * *

**XI - Blue Silk**

* * *

Annabeth, Leo, and Reyna stayed a bit behind the rest of the Ravenclaws as they were led to the West Tower, talking in hushed tones about what had happened.

They eyed the entrance to the room warily, all not quite sure about the rather strange entrance. Their wariness died as they entered the common room. 

The room had large windows, with blue silk curtains hanging from them. The beams of the moon shone through, casting long shadows. The ceiling showed the stars and both of Reyna and Leo heard Annabeth mutter the term they had long since grown used to;  
  


_Bob says hello._

The walls were lined with large white bookshelves, filled to the brim with books. On the empty spaces, blue and bronze silks hung. There was a gorgeous carpet on the floor, the colour of the midnight sky, and a beautiful statue of a woman, next to two staircases.

Portraits hung the walls as well, and the whole group spent a whole minute admiring the space. Finally, they parted, going up the staircases to their dorms.

At Reyna’s dorm, the girl exchanged a tight hug, exchanging goodbyes in Greek and Latin, respectively. Then Reyna opened the door, entered her dorm, and Annabeth was left to climb to the seventh year dorm.

The dorm was at the top of the staircases, and there Annabeth found two doors. Each one had three name plaques on them, and Annabeth went into the one that had her name on it.

She quietly opened the doors, yet it still brought the attention of the girls inside. Once they saw her, their faces lit up, and Annabeth felt the anxiety she didn’t know she had faded away.

“You’re the American transfer, right?” One of them asked. She had long dark hair, plaited into long braids. Her skin was dark brown and her eyes darker, but they showed like planets in the night sky.

Annabeth nodded, and stuck her hand out, “Annabeth Chase.”

The girl took her hand, shaking it, “Amabilia Ventrence.”

“Nice to meet you,” Annabeth said, smiling.

Amabilia grinned at her and pointed to the only open bed, a four-poster bed with silk sheets and curtains that was right below one of the many windows, “That’s your bed. Your trunks are at the foot of it.” They were indeed at the foot of her bed.

“What’s even in that?” Her other roommate, a girl with long red-orange hair, shaved on both sides, asked, “I stubbed my toe on them and bloody hell, _it hurt_.” She paused, “I’m Ciara, by the way. Ciara O'Broin.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Annabeth gave Ciara a wry grin. “That’s a secret.” She winked at the girl, who laughed.

Annabeth was left to unpack, and she got to know her roommates.

Ciara was from Ireland, born to muggles. The tense press of her shoulders and tight-lipped smiles when Annabeth asked of her parents was all too familiar, and Annabeth could picture the cold nights on the run they shared on opposite sides of the world.

“And you, Amabilia?” Annabeth asked her

Amabilia turned out to be a pureblood, coming from one of the still ‘pure’ families. “Not that we’re obsessed with that,” she told her, “We’ve always been very lenient, but we always end up marrying a pureblood or a half-blood.”

“Well that may end soon,” Ciara said, smiling at Amabilia who had Annabeth sure there was love between them.

“It’s a wonder we’re still dorm mates,” Amabilia said, grinning. 

Amabilia, Ama as she prefered, lived only with her father, her mother having died in the first wizarding war. Annabeth could tell, from the gleam in her eyes and the pride in her voice, how much she loved and cherished him.

They asked Annabeth about her, and her past school. She told them that she was a half-blood, but had lived with her muggle father until she was seven in Virginia. She told them she ran away, glossing over the exact details of her time on the run. Ciara and she exchanged understanding smiles.

All they needed to know was that she ended up at her school, which she did not give a name for, and she had been studying there since. The girls were polite, asking clarifying questions, and Annabeth found herself loosening up a bit. 

Ciara was brilliant and sharp-tongued, adept and beautiful. Ama was more reserved, but when she spoke, it was soothing and commanding. Her voice was powerful, her sharp features and the kept look of her deceptively easy on the eyes. She had the makings of a leader. 

Talking late into the hours of the night, something became clear. These girls wanted friendship and kinship. Annabeth, in truth, had no kin to them. They were cut from different cloths, different faces on different coins, women of two worlds. Annabeth wanted to know them, wanted to let them know her, but the walls were slowly building and building, shutting her away, back into the dark.

She hid her fear of the darkness behind too-tight smiles, hoping her mask wouldn’t fall. The walls grew, the water rose. She sunk under, and then, Annabeth was nothing more than a girl of smoke and mirrors, hidden truths.

Undercover.

* * *

**XII - Pain**

**Midnight**

* * *

Annabeth had once told Percy that it wasn’t easy to bite through either your lips or tongue, but judging by the metallic iron taste in his mouth, he would have to disagree.

He pressed down even harder as the desire to scream overcame him again, balling his shaking hands in the green sheets, slowly becoming soaked with his sweat. The old wounds on his back were roaring as he hunched over and bit even harder.

He was shaking, hot tears streaming down his face as he fought back the screams and the memories. The details of the dream were gone—his memory was bad anyway—but the sound of Annabeth’s scream as she was killed and the overwhelming grief, guilt, and fear weren’t. And the feeling of falling through the air, this time without her, all around him. Down to hell. Away from light and salvation. 

He glanced around. The room was dark, the only colour being the faint rays of the moon breaking through the water outside of his window. _Water_ , he told himself, _focus on the water_.

He reached out to the waves, and suddenly he could feel everything. The waves lapping at the shore, the kelp moving with the current. The pull of the moon overhead.

_Water, water, water._

The urge to scream and the tears faded as his body settled and the water cradled him. Shakily, he brushed the hair back from his head, realising his hair had gotten longer than it already had been. An issue for another day.

Trying not to be too loud, he crept over to where his two trunks were sitting, the only sign of them being their outline in the moonlight. He was silent as he lifted the top of one of them. The only sound was the click of the latch as he opened the false bottom.

He was working by faint moonlight, so he struggled to find what he was looking for. But finally, he felt the cool glass brush his fingers. He grabbed the vial of nectar; uncorking it and letting the smell of home wash over him for a moment before taking a greedy sip, letting the godly liquid dribble over the broken skin of his lip and down his chin.

_Greedy, greedy, greedy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! I have decided to update on Mondays as well, just so this story goes by a little faster. So that's my notes for now, and thus concludes part one. Part Two is fun!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the eye of the hurricane  
> There is silence  
> For just a moment"

###  _Part Two: The Easy Times_

* * *

_The Heroes of Olympus, slowly starting to understand the world they are now working in, continue their quest. But with cruelty and deception around every corner, things grow deeper as the year progresses._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Song: Hurricane, Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton

* * *

**XIII - The Children and the Rat**

**Next Morning**

* * *

Thalia was not enjoying Defence Against the Dark Arts.

She found herself astronomically disappointed at what they were doing, which was...reading. Thalia had entered the room somewhat hopeful, guided by the false promise of a very cool class name.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one bored out of their mind. Piper was throwing paper at Jason, behind Thalia. Frank was the only one who was attempting to read, but Piper kept on missing and hitting him.

It didn’t help that Professor Umbridge kept on making these fake little coughs, and every time Thalia heard one, her patience and restraint strained even further.

Something curious caught Thalia’s eyes. Hermione Granger, who Thalia had already come to know was a proficient and dedicated student, even with only two classes together so far, not reading the book and instead, raising her hand.

Umbridge had been ignoring her for a bit, but just as more people began to notice her strange behaviour, she addressed it, “Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?”

Hermione straightened, finally having been noticed, “About the chapter, no, but-”

“Well right now we are reading. Any other questions can be dealt with after class.” The woman tutted and turned away, satisfied she’d dispelled the girl.

“I have a question about your course aims,” Hermione said pointedly, sparing a glance at the blackboard.

Umbridge stiffened, turning around, “What is your name, dear?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well I believe if you read them carefully, Miss Granger, they are plenty clear,” Umbridge said.

Thalia glanced at the blackboard and the floating letters she didn’t care enough to try and decipher. 

“Well, I don’t,” Came Hermione’s clipped reply, “There’s nothing about using defensive spells.”

Thalia looked at the blackboard in alarm, mentally kicking herself for not even trying to read the course aims. 

Umbridge gave an airy laugh, “Using defensive spells? Why I don’t see any situation arising in which you would need to use defensive spells, Miss Granger. Do you expect to actually be attacked during class?”

“We’re not using magic?” Ron cried, looking rather panicked. 

“Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class Mr-”

“Weasley,” He snapped, thrusting his hand into the air.

Thalia bit her tongue.

Umbridge smiled, turned away from him, just as Harry and Hermione’s hands shot into the air. Umbridge stared at Harry for a moment, before addressing Hermione, “Do you have another question, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, isn’t the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?” Hermione asked, sounding flustered and breathless.

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked, her voice sweet, but dripping with poison all the same.

“No, but-”

Umbridge smiled a sickly sweet smile, “Then you do not have the qualifications to tell me what the ‘whole point’ of my class is, Wizards with far more experience who are older than you have decided on this new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-” 

“What use is that to us? If we are attacked-” Harry shouted, cutting her off.

“Hand, Mr Potter.” She growled turning away as Harry did just that. But unfortunately, other hands besides his were also in the air.

“And your name is?” She asked a dark-skinned boy.

“Dean Thomas,” he told her.

“Yes?”  
  


“Well like Harry said, it won’t be risk-free-”

“I repeat,” The woman now growled, slowly losing her sweet persona. Thalia saw Frank and Jason exchange a glance. “Do you expect to be attacked during my class?”

“No, but-”

The woman ploughed on, drowning him out, “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

Thalia straightened, her lip curling as she opened it to speak-

“If you mean Professor Lupin,” Dean growled, “He was the best damn teacher we ever-”

“Hand Mr Thomas!” She said. “ _As I was saying_ , you have been exposed to spells far too advanced for your age group, some potentially lethal. Not to mention that you have been led to believe that you will be attacked by some dark forces every day!”

“No, we haven’t,” Hermione protested, “We just-”

_“Your hand is not up Miss Granger!”_

Hermione threw her hand up, face becoming angrier. Umbridge ignored her, addressing the class now, her voice deadly serious and cold, “It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you —” 

“Well yeah, but he was a maniac anyway-” Dead protested.

“Hand Mr Thomas!” She cried, “Now the Ministry believes that theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient for you O.W.L.S.-”

“Theory?” Piper hissed, sounding like a knife against a stone.

The room fell silent.

“You want us to learn theory? That’s-” She repeated.

“Miss McLean-”

“I am not finished, _Professor_.” Piper hissed.

“Pipes-” Jason said.

Piper held up her hand, stopping him. “Theory will get us _nowhere_. That’s like telling a person how to build a space shuttle, and expecting them to remember every little thing and then sending that shuttle to space.”

“Miss McLean, do not interrupt me again-”

“Then don’t do it to me-”

“Piper,” Jason said, his voice cold. He gave her a look and Piper stood down, still seething.

A girl had raised her hand, and Umbridge asked her what her name was.

“Parvati Patil, and isn’t there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?” She said, eyeing the teacher nervously.

“Miss Patil, as long as you have good enough knowledge of the theory, I see no reason why you should fail to perform the spell under carefully monitored and controlled exam conditions,” Umbridge said, her tone curt and dismissive.

“We’re going to cast the spells the first time during the test? Without ever practising them before?” Parvati cried.

“I will repeat, as long as you have good enough knowledge of the theory-”

“What good is a theory in the real world?” Harry cried, fist up in the air.

Umbridge looked up at him.

“This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world-”

“So you're gonna cradle and coddle us until we’re older and then you’ll thrust us into the ‘real world’ and expect us to be fine?” Piper said, “That is the daftest idea-”

“Hand-”

“Oh screw your-”

Jason threw his hand over her mouth, shutting his girlfriend up. They exchanged an angry look. 

“She has a point, you know,” Harry pressed, “How are we supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?”

“There is nothing out there Mr Potter!” Umbridge cried.

“Oh really?” Harry said, his face slowly growing red. Thalia felt the knives hidden in her clothes grow heavy.

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. 

“Hmmm, let me think,” Harry said, mockingly putting a hand to his chin, “How about _Lord Voldemort?_ ”

The reaction was instant. People paled, Ron gasped, a girl let out a little scream, all of them staring in horror at their classmate. Thalia felt her restraint teetering on the edge, moments away from breaking.

“Ten points from Gryffindor Mr Potter,” Umbridge said sharply.

The room was silent. 

Thalia’s hands were sweating, her fingers moving to ease out the energy building.

“Let me make things quite plain,” Umbridge said as she stood up and leaned towards them, her pudgy fingers splayed against the desk.

“You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead —”

“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry angrily, “but yeah, he’s returned!” 

“Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,” said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark Wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.” 

“So you’re in denial.” Thalia hissed, right as Harry cried out.

“It is not a lie! I saw him, I fought him!”

The room was silent. People were staring at both of them, and some people were sniffing, smelling a peculiar smell growing.

“Detention Mr Potter! Five O’Clock, my office!” Umbridge cried, before turning her fury to Thalia.

“What was that Miss Grace?”

“You are in denial,” Thalia said, “Denying the truth because you’re far too dumb to understand what happened. You didn’t see it and have to trust the word of a man you want nothing more than to see arrested.”

“Thalia-”

“Shut it, Jason.”

“I do not know what Dumbledore has told this school but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back. He died fourteen years ago-”

“Yeah, the night my parents were murdered,” Harry hissed. “Or are you going to deny that too?”

Umbridge ignored him, “The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means, come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ ” 

“How dumb are you?” Piper cried.

“Do not make me give you detention Miss McLean-”

“Ooooh _boooo hooooo_ , detention!” Piper mocked, “How will I ever cope!”

Harry stood up now, his face alight with a murderous rage. 

Thalia reached for her shield.

“Harry, no!” Hermione cried, tugging on his sleeve, to no avail.

“So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry asked, his voice shaking. 

A gasp filled the room, people staring wide-eyed at Harry. Thalia tried to cool her temper. 

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident-”

“No.”

The room turned, facing the one transfer who was yet to speak. Frank Zhang was leaned back in his chair, his normally cool composure and kind eyes gone. His eyes seemed to dance with flames, and his face was dark. A child of Mars.

“It was murder, and you know it,” Frank said, his voice cool. Thalia was harshly reminded that he was, at heart, the child of Mars. While he may be one slow to anger, he was angry now, and Umbridge was one misstep away from him letting it all out.

Harry, still shaking spoke up again, “Murder by Voldemort!”

Professor Umbridge’s face was quite blank. For a moment Thalia thought she was going to scream at Harry. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, “Come here, Mr Potter, dear.” 

Harry stepped up, confused as Umbridge pressed a note into his hand, “Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear.” 

“So you’re sending him away because he doesn’t agree-”

“I swear to all the god’s Piper-” 

“Shut your mouth Grace,” Piper hissed to her boyfriend, causing him to real back in shock.

“Detention Miss McLean,” Umbridge eyes Thalia as she opened her mouth again, “You as well, Miss Grace.”

“Oh for the gods’ sake-” Piper cried.

“Is that all your little mind can say?” Umbridge mocked. 

Piper froze.

Frank stood up, his chair toppling to the floor, his eyes raging fires.

But before he could speak, Umbridge did, “Detention for you Mr Zhang.” The woman seemed giddy at this point to be giving out the detentions.

The transfers fumed, glancing at Jason. His face had gone blank, but slowly it settled to steel as Umbridge ordered the class to continue reading. The room was silent when he spoke up for the first time.

“ _Tu rat._ ” He hissed in Latin, before switching to English. “ _That_ is what you are _Professor_ , a dirty, little, street rat.”

“Detention Mr Grace!” She said gleefully. 

“You can hand out detentions all you want, rat, but that doesn’t change jack shit-”

“Language-”

“Oh go fu-” Piper commented, her eyes swirling.

“You are a rat, Professor Umbridge,” Jason mocked, cutting her off as the smell of Ozone grew in the room. He had clearly lost all cool he had, “You bully and belittle and deny a truth you can’t face because your little rat brain is too small to even think.”

Jason stood up, stalking in front of her. Even having been made younger, he still towered well above her. There was a small crack of electricity as he gave her a malicious grin, “You can do what you want, Umbridge. Give us detentions, ban us from things but that means nothing in the long run.”

“When the war hits, you’ll be the one fleeing with your tail between your legs or joining the other side because you” He jammed his finger towards her, “Are. A. Rat.”

With that, the son of Jupiter turned, stalking out of the silent room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Again some quotes are directly from HP. Rights go to Rowling


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But you don't know what hell you put me through  
> To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you  
> To feel your weight in arms I'd never use  
> It's the God that heroin prays to"

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Song: To Be Alone, Hozier

* * *

**XIV - Aftermath**

**Afternoon**

* * *

Annabeth knew something had gone wrong the second she saw Piper stalking to the side of the lake, where the group had planned to meet after their first days of classes.

She sat next to her, throwing her head into her hands as she pressed her palms to her eyes. Jason soon followed, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed back the tears. Thalia soon followed, Ozone heavy around her, only slightly simmering as Reyna took her hand in hers.

The most surprising arrival was Frank, who looked more like Clarrise than he ever had, with his flaming eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

Once the entire group arrived they recounted their disastrous DADA lesson. Annabeth winced at every detail and looked at them in shock when she was told they all had detention at five the next night.  
  


Annabeth pulled out some parchment and some ink and a quill, ready to write the details of the class to Chiron. Frank recounted it again, and Annabeth wrote everything, letting it dry before putting it into the messenger bag she brought to her classes.

Once that was over, the group relaxed a bit. People laid across people and they spoke in a mix of Greek, English and Latin, bouncing between the three every few sentences. 

It was Frank who noticed Harry and his friends, who passed the group whispering to one another in a tight huddle. Frank called out to them, waving them over.

They awkwardly came over and were introduced to the group. Annabeth did not miss the long look Harry gave her, but chose to ignore it once Harry noticed that she was sitting in Percy’s lap, who had his chin on her head, and his eyes closed, enjoying the moment.

“So,” Hermione said. “Where are you guys from?”

They told her, all exchanging laughs and glances that Hermione didn’t understand, but she chooses to ignore it.

“What was your old school like?” The group stiffened.

“It was fine. We learned a lot of self-defence, along with magic, of course,” Annabeth said, her voice suddenly much stiffer.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

Hermione continued to press, trying to learn more about the Transfers, but the more she pressed the more the answers seemed rehearsed. Too much nonchalance there, too much stiffness there, too many traded glances.

Eventually, the trio left, all-knowing something was afoot, none of them having the confidence to say it. So they walked back in silence.

* * *

**XV - Proper Lady**

**A Day Later**

* * *

The next night, the group met up with those who had to go to detention that night, giving them hugs and telling them to give her hell.

The four of them were silent as they approached the woman’s office, at the same moment Harry did. They all exchanged glances before Frank knocked. A sugary voice replied, “Come in.”

Thalia winced.

They stepped inside, and Piper nearly stopped dead in her tracks at the sight, It was so… so… _Pink._ It was like the Aphrodite cabin had once been, but even worse and stomach-turning. Piper swallowed it down as Umbridge bid them good evening and told them to sit. She could almost see the blank stare Drew would give the room. Or the creative knife patterns she would draw in the fabric. 

Harry asked Umbridge something, Piper didn’t listen, but she didn’t miss the way Harry's face sank, and the gleam in Umbridge’s eyes. Jason gave her a cold glare.

“Now you all will be doing lines,” Piper resisted the urge to bang her head against the table, as she reached for their quills, stopping when Umbridge spoke. “No, no, you do not need those. I have some rather special quills you will use.” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out five long, thin, black quills handing each of them one.

They all pulled out the parchment, and Umbridge told them each what they were to write in a rather soft voice, “Mr Potter, you are too write I must not tell lies. Miss McLean, I am a proper lady. Miss Grace,” Thalia’s lip curled, “I will be tame, you too Mr Zhang. Mr Grace,” her eyes glimmered with malevolence, “I will be respectful.”

“How many times?” Harry asked.

“Oh, how about until the message _sinks in_ ,” Umbridge said, her eyes glimmering even more.

“We have no ink,” Thalia said.

“Oh,” Umbridge giggled, “You won’t need that.”

Piper sighed, and put her pen to the paper and wrote. Immediately, she noticed a strange prickling sensation, but she ignored it. She ignored the gasp. She ignored the pain as it grew.

_I am a proper lady._

_I am a proper lady._

_I am a proper lady._

She only stopped when she noticed the ink.

She had fought long and hard enough to recognise blood on sight.

This ink was the same deep crimson as her blood, with the shimmer of gold, the hint of ichor. 

Piper was going to barf.

She looked at the back of her hand, where the words she had been told to write were carved into her skin, red blood sluggishly dribbling out.

“Is something wrong Miss McLean?”  
  


Piper did not reply. 

She just swallowed her pride and continued to write. 

_I am a proper lady._

_I am a proper lady._

_I am a proper lady..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did someone break your heart inside?  
> You're in ruins  
> One, twenty-one guns  
> Lay down your arms, give up the fight"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, some things are taken directly from Rowling's books.

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Songs: 21 Guns, Green Day

* * *

**XVI - White Bandages**

**Early Morning**

* * *

“SHE DID WHAT?” Percy roared as Piper told him what Umbridge had done.

Piper held out the hand she’d bandaged last night after the detention to him, and he tenderly took it, turning it slightly to get a better look. “I’ll be right back,” He muttered. 

The two of them were sitting in his room, the rest of their house still asleep. Piper had woken up at five, and unable to fall asleep, tiptoed to her friend’s room, knocking lightly. She was just about to turn away when the door opened, showing an obviously just woken up Percy.

“Oh shit sorry-” She said, remembering the time.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, “What brings you here?” They had sat on his bed then, and Piper had told him everything.

Now, he was shuffling through one of his trunks, before pulling up a canteen of nectar, a square of Ambrosia, a white cloth, and a roll of fresh bandages. He sat next to her, pressed the ambrosia into her hand as he unwrapped the bandages.

“How many more detentions do you have with her?” He muttered, biting his lip as the bandage fell away. Piper ate the ambrosia.

“Rest of the week,” She said weakly, wincing at the sting of the nectar hitting the wound.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “This is going to hurt,” he told her, grabbing the white cloth.

He poured nectar onto the cloth, and Piper understood what was happening. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip as he rubbed it over the wound, needing to clean it before he bandaged it.

Finally, he set the cloth aside, and Piper breathed a sigh of relief. The bandaging hurt less, but she still winced whenever they hit her raw skin. Finally, once it was over, Piper glanced at Percy, who was staring at the bandages, anger in his eyes.

She leaned on him, and he accepted it, putting an arm around her as she leaned against him, craving the comfort of her friend. “Will’s going to want to check it out as well,” He told her. 

She nodded.

* * *

**XVII - Tears**

**Later that Week**

* * *

Harry had been having an absolutely rotten week.

From his detention with Professor Umbridge to Percy Weasley’s letter, and not to mention Hermione’s idea, which he still wasn’t set on, the week seemed determined to make his life miserable. 

It had been nice to talk to Sirius, though, and Harry felt comforted by his godfather’s support of the idea. But his recklessness was seriously annoying Harry.

Sighing, Harry walked down to the Great Hall, sitting next to Hermione and Ron. Not far from them was two of the three Gryffindor Transfers, heads together as they poured over something.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked.

Jason and Frank glanced up at her, seemingly reminded for the first time where they were. Jason smiled, glancing back at the paper, “Some friends from our old school asked us to do something for them.”

Frank turned back to the paper, the harsh whispers continuing. Hermione huffed, just as an owl swooped down, dropping the Daily Prophet.

Hermione gave a sudden gasp as she smoothed out the paper. On the front, there was a picture of a smiling Umbridge, the magic in the photo causing her to blink periodically.

The headline made Harry’s blood run cold. 

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**  
  
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing.

Hermione read aloud, catching the transfer's attention, who listened with wide eyes, “In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“The Minister has been growing uneasy about the goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. ‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’ “This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.”

“That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success —’ ” 

“A what?” Frank asked, looking flabbergasted.

“There’s more,” Hermione muttered, her face darkening.

“ ‘— an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts.’”

“It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’”

“‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the “falling standards” at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. ‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.’ 

“The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts. “ ‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of…” Hermione continued to read.

A letter landed in front of Frank, carried by a dark owl. Harry watched him break the seal, pull out the letter, and read. Jason scratched the head of the owl, smiling. Frank pulled the letter out, and Harry noticed a peculiar collection of dark red spots in the corner. Frank, didn’t.

Frank’s face paled, and a hand flew up to his mouth. He looked around looking for someone, but swore, seeming not having found them. “Where’s Reyna?” He frantically asked Jason.

“I think she went to find Thalia, why?” Frank just handed Jason the letter. Jason read the letter, eyes slowly becoming wide.

“No, no, no, no, no-” He cried, calling attention to him and Frank.

The other transfers were glancing at them, curious and wary. Jason handed back the letter and spoke quickly in another language. Frank nodded, and ran out of the room, and then-

Jason burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😉


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Looking at the stars  
> Admiring from afar"

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Song: we fell in love in october, girl in red

* * *

**XVIII - Unnatural**

**Ten Minutes Earlier**

* * *

Thalia was lonely.

She had woken up late and arrived at the great hall just as her friends were leaving. They promised to meet up with her once classes were over, but that was hours from now. She had classes with some of them, but talking was always prohibited. 

Silently, she walked out to the lake, not very hungry and choosing to skip lunch. She found a tall and sturdy tree, and sat at the base of it, closing her eyes as she let the cooling winds rustle her hair and clothes.

She felt the current of the wind around her, tugging and begging her to reach out and take them in her hand. She almost did, almost gave in to it, but she resisted remembering every time she had tried. The wind hand taken her, lifted her, and every time she had sworn she would get over this dumb fear, but it never worked. 

Resisting the urge to scratch at the bandages on her hand, the unwilling marring of her flesh by a demon wrapped in pink chiffon, a cruel taunt. _I will be tame_. Telling a child of one of the three kings to be tame was like asking a lion to not hunt.

Unnatural. 

Thalia froze. Unnatural.

Lions.

 _Tame_.

Maybe the witch had seen more than she let on. Seen the ferocity of her and Jason, seen the flash of Percy’s eyes. The mysticalness and manipulation of Hazel and the mist she bent to her. The screaming souls in Nico’s blade. Seen the monstrous. 

Wanted to clamp it down.

Thalia, suddenly cold, wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as she looked out on the castle grounds. She tried to push the troubling thoughts away. The winds around her, unbeknownst to her, chilled and strengthened, reacting to her and her mood. 

Thalia leaned back, pressing close to the tree. The absence of the silver on her brow weighed heavy, although she was lighter. Freed of burden but wishing it back. Her only familiar comfort was the shield at her wrist, the twisted face of a protector or temptress, depending on the poet.

She heard the crunch of leaves to her left and looked up to see Reyna, her black and blue robes trailing behind her, an echo of her Praetor robes and the blood-red cape. The only thing missing was her dogs.

Lovely Reyna. Lovely Reyna and her big grins. Lovely Reyna and the nights spent hunting with her, running through the forest. Silver and gold dogs, glimmering under the moonlight. Fireside kisses and teasing jabs of other hunters, Artemis onlooking.

“Why aren’t you eating Lunch?” Reyna said, sitting next to her. 

“Wasn’t hungry,” Thalia told her, leaning on her shoulder.

Reyna wrapped her arm around her as they watched the leaves of the tree they were leaning against fall in dizzy circles. They stayed like that for a few minutes, broken when Thalia smiled.

“What?” Reyna asked.

“October…” Thalia said, having remembered something.

“Huh?” Reyna said, not quite getting it.

Thalia smiled before starting to softly sing, 

“Smoking Cigarettes on the roof,”

“Thals it's still September,” Reyna said. Thalia ignored her.

“You look so pretty and I love this view, 

That's why I love fall

Looking at the stars

Admiring from afar

My girl, my girl, my girl,

You will be my girl…” Slowly, Reyna joined in, their soft voices barely carrying beyond them.

“Reyna!” A shout broke through their singing. 

They both looked up to see Frank running to them, a letter clenched in his fist. He reached them only moments later, and with her hand tightly gripping her girlfriends, Thalia spoke, “What’s going on?”

He held out the letter, eyes tearing up.

They gingerly took it, and read.

* * *

 **XIX - Poisonous** **Poise**

* * *

Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano had always prided herself on her composure. She never dropped her poker face, never betrayed a weakness.

But right now, she was going to be sick.

Her head kept on repeating the contents of the letter, written by a centurion in the know of the wizarding world, over and over again, a broken record.

_Camp Jupiter Attacked._

_Wizards._

_Called themselves death eaters._

_Amazons attacked._

_Camp Half-Blood attacked._

_Three hundred dead._

_Hundreds more injured._

_Hylla in critical care._

She wiped the tears away, muttering curses under her breath. She was not going to let her home be attacked, not let her city fall to the whims of some delusion drove wizard. He had sealed his fate now.

When she was done, when the might of Rome was turned against him, all that would be left was red.

This man had declared a war, a new kind of war. He’d brought something into the fray he never should have, and no matter how small their forces were now, the might of Olympus was now narrowed unto one point, him.

She could feel the press of Thalia’s shoulders at her side, warm and home. Home, home, home, she reminded herself.

An image came to her head, unbidden. New Rome, her city, her home, on fire. The screaming of dying heroes and children. She saw her beloved Skippy in the flames.

She suddenly lurched forward, clutching her stomach. She tried to scream, tried to sob, but it was all caught in her throat. Thalia’s gentle hand was on her back, and the sound of soothing words and love carried to her ears. 

“Shhh, shhh, I love you-”

“Hylla-”

“I know, I know-”

“ _I can’t lose her-_ ”

“It’s okay, you won’t. You won’t lose her. Let’s go, we have to find them.”

Reyna stiffly nodded, and Thalia helped her up. Reyna was turning to run, but Thalia grabbed her face first. She planted a kiss, short and passionate, to her lips. When they broke apart, Thalia pressed her forehead to hers, and a little smile was on her face. “We’ve got this.”

They broke apart and ran to the castle. They found themselves in the main entrance, right in front of the great hall when, “Miss Ramírez-Arellano,” a familiar sickly sweet voice called, stopping Reyna dead in her tracks, “What are you doing in the halls?”

Reyna turned to see Umbridge, a sneer disguised as a smile on her face. Reyna lifted her chin, trying to ignore the tears still staining her cheeks. “I am dealing with a personal emergency, Professor, so if you would excuse me-”

“Oh, a personal emergency, you say?” Umbridge tilted her head, “What happened?.”

Reyna regarded her, turning her face to stone. She had been the Praetor of New Rome, for god’s sake. Her sister was the Queen of the Amazons! She was a child of _war_. This woman would not try this, not now, not if Reyna had anything to say about it, “I am not going to disclose it to you, Professor. You have no business knowing the business of New Rome-” Reyna caught her mistake a second too late.

“New Rome?” Umbridge asked.

Reyna resisted the urge to stab the woman. An idea. A rash, a beyond dumb idea, was forming. She gave a poisonous grin, causing the teacher’s own grin to falter, “Why yes, New Rome. The city I live in. The city with an active army, of which I have been in control of and have close ties to the current leaders.” She leaned forward until her face was inches from the toads. 

“My name is Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano,” She crooned, as Umbridge paled.

The tears on her face were damned. She was alive and powerful. 

“I am the high inquisitor-” Umbridge stammered out, but Reyna held up a hand, silencing her.

Was she really going to do this? Reveal the gods? Chiron had not wanted her too, but right now, this was all she could do. She briefly met Thalia’s eye. Her beloved, her lieutenant, her shining star, gave the barest flicker of a grin.

 _Go on_ , it said, _write the epic._

“My name is Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano,” Reyna repeated. “Daughter of Bellona, Roman Goddess of War. I am the ex-Praetor of the Twelfth Legion. I serve the Goddess Artemis, the Huntress. You will not stop me. You will never speak of this, or” Reyna pulled her knife out, the steel glinting in the candlelight as it came to rest under Umbridge’s chin. Reyna lifted it a bit, Umbridge’s head moving with it.  
  
“I will slit that throat of yours and let you bleed out here. I’ll make sure your boss, The Mister, sees a photo of you, dead on the floor.” Her eyes glimmered, “You will never speak of this, do you hear me?”

Power and pride in her veins. Love and song, prose and passion, the glimmer of the moon and lightning in _her_ eyes were what strengthened the Queen.

Umbridge scowled, “You filthy Half-Breed-”

She stopped as Reyna took the blade off her throat, choosing instead to make a little mark on the side of her pale face, “That was the first cut,” Reyna hissed, “I will make more if I need too. I don't care. I do not repent for the lives I have taken. Demigods are bred to kill monsters, and I am sure you are one.”  
  


She heard footsteps, seeing the rest of her group rushing to them. Annabeth looked impressed by the scene, Umbridge’s red cheek, Reyna’s murderous face, and the bloody knife in her hand.

Then Umbridge screamed.

The group exchanged glances. In seconds they scattered, Hazel and Nico each taking at least four people with them as they disappeared into the shadows. The only ones left was Annabeth, who fished out her cap, and Frank, who turned into a bird, flying to the rafters to watch from above.

They hadn’t gone far though.

They were merely in the shadows, around the corners, watching as students and teachers alike ran to her, the great hall doors causing a gust of wind. “What happened?” McGonagall said stiffly. 

“The transfers attacked me! One of them said she was half-god! Where are they?” Whispers erupted.

They were all silenced though when a thud was heard. A knife, pure black, and radiating death no matter how far away you stood, landed mere inches from her feet. Umbridge blanched, staring at the knife as it caught in the light. 

Nico di Angelo, Hazel Levesque, and Piper McLean appeared from the crowd after a minute of silence.

“There!” Umbridge screamed, pointing a pudgy finger at them. “They attacked me!”

McGonagall turned to them, “We did see you run out of the hall.” Her eyes were narrow, but they seemed to hold a knowledge of something more in them. 

“Professor, we were just dealing with something else. We were in a hallway, not even close to here!” Hazel said, waving her hand through the air as if dismissing the claims.

“Yes, and the bloody baron saw us!” Piper said, drawing attention to the ghost who had just appeared, her words feeling sweet and warm as they washed over the crowd, “Didn’t you?”  
  


The ghost blinked, scrunching up his face, “I do believe I did.”

“See professor, we weren’t nearby. We just arrived.” Piper said.

“But the knife!” Umbridge cried.

Nico stepped forward, taking the knife. He tested the blade, and to everyone’s surprise, it bent slightly. He gave a wry grin, “It’s fake. No true blade could ever bend like this. Well sharpened, but likely just to scare you. There is nothing to worry about.”

The crowd dispersed then, the rest of the exchanges pushing through to get to their group. Umbridge opened her mouth but was silenced when Reyna let the light catch on her hidden blade.

McGonagall sighed. “All of you, too my office.”

“I will come too,” Umbridge sniffed, raising up her chin.

“No you will not,” McGonagall said sharply, “You are bleeding. You should go to the hospital wing.” McGonagall then turned on her heel sharply, her emerald robes swishing around her.

The exchanges followed, leaving behind a shell shocked Umbridge. Reyna though, looked over her shoulder, giving a grin as she held up the blade, crimson blood still dripping from the tip.

A drop fell.

Staining ancient stone.

Umbridge hurried away. 

The group filed into the room, and McGonagall sat in her chair, giving a deep sigh. Annabeth regarded her, “You know about us, don’t you?”

The teacher nodded, “I do, Miss Chase.”

The tension seemed to fly out of the room, the group letting out a collective sigh of relief as they sagged, dropping their defensives.

McGonagall folded her hands in front of her, “I understood why what you did had to be done,” Reyna looked away, stopped by Thalia's hand coming to rest on her cheek, “And have been informed of the attack against your camps. I will be allowing you to take this day off, to discuss with those remaining. But I must warn you,” Her face darkened.

“Umbridge will use this knowledge in whatever way she can. I understand that you may have scared her into not talking, but she believes that if she tells the Ministry and you are arrested before you can get to her, she will be safe. I do not know if this is true.”

“She will not report immediately, however. She will wait until a slip up on your part, then tell Fudge,” McGonagall’s voice and face betrayed her utter disgust at the situation as she met all of their eyes before continuing, “You must be as careful as possible.”

“What would count as a slip-up?” Hazel asked, her gold eyes trailing over the walls.

“Something even as minor as getting detention with another teacher would likely count. And I must say, Miss Levesque, your control of the mist earlier was very impressive.” Hazel dipped her head in acknowledgement. 

“That’s going to be hard,” Percy muttered.

“I know it will, Mr Jackson. But you must do this, or your world will find itself in the line of fire by the Ministry. I know you do not want to include yourself in this war, and I understand. If you want to keep that, you _must_ be vigilant.” McGonagall pressed.

“It’s too late,” Reyna said, her sharp voice cutting across the room. McGonagall gave her a curious look, “What do you know of the attack?”

“Only that you were attacked.”

Reyna sighed, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked out the window, “It was Voldemort and his death eaters who instigated the attack. I do not know how they figured out where we were, but he has all but declared war at this point.” Reyna fussed with one of the many rings on her hands.

McGonagall was pale, as Annabeth suddenly perked up, bringing attention to her. But she only spoke to Percy, “What did Sadie say, that one time, about high amounts of magic coming from Camp? And how they knew something was there, even before they met us?”  
  


Percy swore, “Do you think it’s like that?”

“I can’t be sure, I’ll have to talk to Sadie, but if yes, this poses a threat, even outside of what’s going on right now.” Percy nodded along.

“I would also warn them,” He advised, “And Magnus too. They’ll want to know.”

Annabeth looked troubled, “He’s already attacked one pantheon. What's two more? And there are probably hundreds of other ones out there, ones we haven’t met!” She let loose a long stream of swears, her eyes wild, “This is so so bad.” She moaned.

She looked at McGonagall, “Can I borrow some parchment? And a quill and ink?” The teacher handed the daughter of Athena what she needed, and Annabeth began to furiously write. 

She wrote three letters; one to the Kanes, one to Magnus, and one to Chiron. In the one to Chiron, she begged him to get what information he could about any other Pantheons that may be running around.

Voldemort knew these pantheons proved threats to him. So he was playing a long game, trying to take them out as he went, cripple them so hard that when the fight came, they wouldn’t have enough forces to defeat him.

It was a foolish idea, steeped in a deep and fundamental misunderstanding of what he was getting himself into. But it was an idea all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😘✌🏻


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it's true what they say  
> Is this how the world is?  
> To be beaten and betrayed  
> And then be told that nothing changes"

###  **_Part Three: The Blood of Conspiracy_ **

_The demigods have been attacked. There is a war brewing. Distrust and rumours are piling up. Ties are formed and severed_. 

_The Gods are watching._

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Song: If it’s True, Cast of Hadestown

* * *

**XX - Labyrinths**

**Afternoon**

* * *

Hermione was looking for the transfer students.

She just needed to find one, invite them to join the group they were making, and hopefully, they would all show up. But since the incident earlier, she hadn’t seen any of them.

Slowly losing hope, she walked into the library. _Maybe I could get some studying in_ , was her thought. But that thought flew away when she saw Percy and Annabeth sitting at one of the tables, both pouring over something.

Hermione took a deep breath before walking over to them. They noticed her immediately, raising eyebrows at her.

“Uh, hi,” Hermione whispered, “I was wondering, well, we're planning this group, and I was wondering if you, and your friends, wanted to join.”

They exchanged a glance, and Annabeth spoke, “Whose we, and what is this group for?”  
  
“Well Ron and I came up with it, but Harry’ll be leading the meetings. And it’s for,” she cleared her throat, “It’s to learn defensive spells.”

The two exchanged another, noticeably more surprised, glance. Hermione could almost see the thousands of words that passed between them, even in just the shortest look. Annabeth set her jaw, “We’re in. Where are we gonna meet up?”

Hermione relaxed, “The Hogshead, next Hogsmeade trip.” They nodded, and Hermione noticed the paper on the table. It was a large map, with little notes and pins in it.

“What’s that?”

Annabeth glanced at the paper, and Hermione remembered how the Gryffindor transfers had been doing something similar that morning. Even the map looked familiar. “Oh,” she said, “Some people got into our school grounds earlier today. That’s why we ran out, and our teacher asked Percy and I too see if we can find any weak points.”

“May I take a look?” Hermione asked, surprising not only Annabeth but herself.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Annabeth said.

She pointed out some of their weak points, but Hermione was unable to decipher where the breach could have originated from. She had asked if they had any wards against apparating, and the two of them explained that anyone who wasn’t known or let in by someone else would have a very hard time getting past their wards.

But then Percy seemed to crack it. He had been tracing something with his finger, but his hand paused over a drawing of rocks, labelled in a language Hermione didn’t know. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, before he sat back in his chair and gave a soft, barely noticeable, “ _Oh_ _shit_.”

“What?” Annabeth asked.

“Annabeth, in the fight near the doors, Hazel raised the labyrinth right?” Annabeth nodded, her face betraying her confusion. Hermione watched, interested, as he continued, “And what serves as an entrance to the labyrinth?” He tapped the pile of rocks on the map.

Annabeth let loose a long list of swears. “No, no, It couldn’t be. We destroyed it!”  
  


“But if Hazel rose it up, building up just enough for it to have even an ounce of the power it had then, it could, in theory, build itself out again. New tunnels, but old entrances. And since we thought that the danger was removed, we didn’t guard it and,” he said, leaning forward to put his elbow on the table as he traced a line, “They could have, conceivably, come through the labyrinth.”  
  


“But how would they have gotten in, in the first place? Or even navigated it without going insane?” Annabeth asked.

“The labyrinth is huge. And we know that we had a brief time in England,” Hermione had no idea what they were talking about, but she listened in, wide-eyed, “And the labyrinth definitely doesn’t care about geography, so they find an entrance here, somehow figure out how to navigate, prepare an assault team, and attack! And for the insanity thing, I don’t know, maybe... _magic_?” He threw his hands up.

Annabeth was pale. “I’ll tell Chiron. You inform the rest. But wait— what about Camp Jupiter?”

  
  
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there was an entrance near or even in New Rome,” Percy said, running a hand through his hair.

The two packed up, and Hermione watched, unable to speak. She knew she had learnt a lot, but nothing was falling into place. Just as they were leaving she cried, “Wait!”

They turned to her, their looks asking their questions for her, “What she said, what Umbridge said earlier, is it true?” Hermione asked.

They exchanged a look. They grinned. Percy turned to her, gave her a lopsided grin, and spoke. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself, Miss Granger.”

Then, they turned and ran, their robes swishing around the corner as the library doors shut behind them. Hermione sat shell shocked, her mind replaying the grin and the flash in those too green eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why would you make out of words  
> A cage for your own bird?  
> When it sings so sweet  
> The screaming, heaving fuckery of the world?"

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Song: No Plan, Hozier

* * *

**XXI - Talks**

**One Month Later**

* * *

The red-gold leaves crunched under Percy boots as he and the rest of his friends walked to the dingy pub in the village of Hogsmead. The air was becoming bitingly cold around him, and he pulled his long overcoat closer to him.

They entered the pub, empty except for Harry and his friends and a few other patrons. It seemed they were to first to arrive as they pulled up chairs and talked in hushed whispers. Hermione was whispering fervently to Harry as they sipped at the drinks called butterbeer. 

The door opened suddenly, a rather large group of people pouring through the door, laughing merrily. Harry seemed rather pale and shot Hermione a long look as she just smiled. “A couple of people?” Percy heard him hiss.

The group settled and Fred Weasley, Ron's older brother, ordered butterbeer for the rest of the group, the poor bartender looking ready to pass out by the amount of Hogwarts students in his pub. Percy nearly laughed, remembering the few times he and Annabeth had gone out and about in the city and how packed each bar had been. 

“Cough up,” Fred said, “I don’t have enough gold for all of this.” The gold was handed over and finally, the group settled, looking at the three friends in the front expectantly. Harry asked Hermione something, she replied, and Harry sat down.

“Hi,” she started, looking out at the group, eyes lingering on the gap between where the Transfers and the rest of the group sat, “Well, um, you all know why we’re here. Um Harry here,” he gave her a scathing look, “Well I had the idea, that it may be best if we learned Defence Against the Dark Arts from someone, well, capable because whatever she is teaching is absolute rubbish—”

“Hear, hear,” A boy with golden blonde hair and a blue and bronze tie chorused, heartening Hermione. 

“Well I think we should take matters into our own hands,” Hermione stated plainly, her jaw set in determination, as she glanced at Harry, “And to do that, I mean, we have to learn to defend ourselves, not relying on theory, but real spells—”

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?” Another boy asked.

“Of course I do,” Hermione said in a rather hurried tone, “But it’s not about that anymore. I want to be defended, because...because,” she swallowed, “Lord Voldemort is back.”

The reaction was one Percy expected. A shriek there, a pale face there, the wide eyes there, and the spilt drink over there. Percy couldn’t quite blame them for the stigma around the name, knowing the power of a name, but how far could that extend to a mortal man? With a titan, a primordial, their power all but answered for the lack of name dropping, but he was far from any of those. Percy just rolled his eyes.

“Well that’s the plan, anyway,” Hermione continued, “Now if you want to join, we need to decide how—”

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” said a blonde Hufflepuff in a hostile voice. 

Hermione blanched, “Well Dumbledore says—”

“You mean he believes _him_ ,” he said, sending a reproachful glance at Harry.

“Who even are you?” Ron snapped.

“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.” 

Piper rolled her eyes muttering something under his breath, but Zacharias heard it, “What was that?” He asked, “And why are we even letting Slytherins here, we all know they’re dirty little—”

“Oh shut your mouth, Smith, and drop the tough guy act.” Nico cut in. All eyes turned to the pale boy, hidden in the shadows of the room, the only sign of him being his black boots resting on the table in front of him. He leaned forward, slipping out of the shade and resting his elbows on the table as he gestured for Hermione to continue.

Hermione seemed miffed and was quick to defend herself, “Look,” She said, glancing at Nico, suddenly realising she couldn’t remember his name, which she timidly asked for.

He smirked, and the room seemed to drop a degree for a moment before coming back to normal, “Nico. Nico di Angelo.”

“Well, um, Nico is right, and that’s not even what this meeting was about—” Her voice rose as she spoke, cut off when Harry spoke for the first time.

“It’s alright Hermione.” Harry seemed to have realised something Percy hadn’t, so he watched the boy carefully, trying to see what he had.

“What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back?” he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. “I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.” His eyes were cold, and Percy could feel the entire room, even the bartender, holding his breath as he spoke.

“All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know—”

“Murder lover,” Piper said in a sing-song voice, causing everyone to glance at her. She grinned at Zacharias, batting her eyes in a way that made him blush, “I mean, why would you ask how poor, what’s his name, Cedric was murdered? Why does it matter? Unless you want to fulfil some fantasy—”

“Piper,” Jason cut her off, his face strained and red, “That’s enough.” Piper rolled her eyes, still smiling. 

Harry was staring at Zacharias with a mix of disdain and contempt that Percy knew all too well. Finally, he spoke, “If you’re looking for me to tell you what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can’t help you, and you should pack your bags and go. I don’t want to talk about Cedric, okay? So if that’s what you’re here for, as I said, you should go.” He was addressing the whole crowd, and for the first time, Percy saw who this boy could be.

He had the makings of a leader in him, he just needed the push. Percy knew there was no teaching leadership, all you could do was help and hope they would gain enough wisdom and survive long enough to lead the charge.

No one left as Harry cast a glare at Hermione, who seemed to brush it aside. Zacharias was staring rather intently at Harry, but he did not get out of his seat. 

It was Hermione who picked up the conversation, her voice higher pitched than it had been. “Well, um, if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet, and where we’re going to —”

“Is it true,” a girl asked, tilting her head to the side as she examined Harry, “That you can produce a Patronus?”

There was a murmur as Harry confirmed that he could, indeed, produce a Patronus.

Percy knew very little of them, having deemed it a less important lesson to focus on. But judging by the tittering and surprised looks in the crowd, they were a big deal.

“A corporeal Patronus?”

Harry looked at her curiously, “Do you happen to know Madam Bones?”

The girl smiled brightly, “Why yes, she’s my aunty. I’m Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So, is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?”

Harry looked flustered, but he replied, “Yes.”

“Blimey, Harry,” A boy Percy recognised as Lee Jordan said, “I never knew that!”

“Well Mum told Ron not to spread it around,” Fred said with a roll of his eyes, grinning all the same, “Didn’t want him getting even more attention.”

“She’s not wrong,” Harry commented, causing a few laughs. For the first time, Percy noticed the veiled person who sat in the corner, who had been watching the proceedings, as they shifted slightly in their seat. He slowly put his hand in his pocket, wrapping it around the cold metal of Riptide.

“And did you kill the basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?” Another boy demanded, “The one the portraits told me about when I was up there last year…”

“Yeah,” Harry said nervously, and Percy and Annabeth exchanged an amused glance, but he quickly dropped it and continued to watch the lone figure. A low whistle could be heard, and glances and little murmurs of surprise were passed around.

“And not to mention he saved that Sorcerous Stone—” Neville said.

“Sorcerer’s,” hissed Hermione. 

“Yes, that, from You-Know-Who,” finished Neville. 

One girl’s eyes were as wide as Drachmas.

“And that’s not to mention,” another girl commented, as Harry spared her a quick glance as his face turned a bit red “all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year—getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . . .” 

Percy had to give a low whistle, “Nice going, Potter.” He commented.

“Look,” Harry insisted, rubbing his hands together, “I appreciate it, but I don’t want to sound modest or anything, but I did that all with some help—”

“Not the dragon last year,” Someone commented, “That was some wicked flying!”

“And no one helped you with the dementors this summer,” Susan said, giving Harry a long look. 

“Yeah, well—”

“Are you trying to weasel your wait out of showing us anything?” Zacharias Smith spoke up again.

“Here’s an idea,” said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, “why don’t you shut your mouth?” 

“I second that,” Percy muttered, before hissing something in Greek about Octavian.

He heard Jason’s snort and Zacharias sent nasty glares to them, but it was ignored and he turned back to the main conversation. “Well, we’re all here to listen to him, no? So are you going to tell us or not?”

It was Fred Weasley who snarled out, “That’s not what he said.”

“Would you like us to clean your ears for you?” His twin George asked, feigning innocence as he leaned towards the pale boy, pulling something out of the bag from the joke shop Zonkos he was carrying.

“Or any part of your body, we’re not picky,” Fred commented.

“Moving on,” Hermione rushed out, “We’re all in agreement to learn from Harry right?”

There was a general murmur of agreement across the room, except Zacharias, who sat with his arms crossed as he eyed the instrument in George’s hands.

Hermione, noticeably relieved at the fact something had been settled, looked out again, “So now we just need to decide when we’ll meet, of course, I think meeting any less than once a week defeats the purpose—”

Someone cut in, talking about Quidditch, and Percy took the opportunity to tune the conversation out for a moment, leaning into Annabeth, “Any word from the Kanes?”

Not taking her eyes off the group, she whispered, “They helped rebuild wards and helped with containment magic around the Labyrinth. We found the entrance in New Rome. But besides that, the Eygptian Magicians have pretty much locked down. Same with the Norse.” He nodded

It was a shout that drew Percy back, and he heard the tail end of whatever the boy had been saying, “...more important than anything else this year, even O.W.L.S!”

He looked around at the faces, seemingly waiting for something before he spoke, “I find myself at a loss with why the ministry has sent a useless hag to teach us, in such a critical time! Obviously, they’re in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells—”

“We think,” Hermione said glancing around, “She has some mad idea that Dumbledores going to create his own private army, mobilize us against the Ministry.”

Annabeth hummed along, her face set in a way that made Percy knew she was dissecting everything Hermione had just said. The rest of the room sat still, stunned at what Hermione had said except for a Ravenclaw girl Percy didn’t recognise.

“Well,” she said, her voice somewhat dreamy, “that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.” 

“What?” Harry cried.

“Yes,” she said tilting her head, giving a ditzy smile, “He’s got an army of heliopaths.”

“No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. 

“Yes, he has,” said the girl. 

“What are heliopaths?” asked a boy.

“They’re spirits of fire,” she said, eyes wide, “Great, tall, flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —”

They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. 

“Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily. 

“I’m sorry, but where’s the _proof_ of that?” snapped Hermione. 

“There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —” 

“Hem, hem,” someone cut in. Percy jumped at the sound, thinking it was Umbridge, but it was a redheaded girl who he believed to be Ron's younger sister, Ginny. “Weren’t we going to decide when to meet for Defence Lessons?”

“Yes, yes, we were…” Hermione said.

“Once a week sounds cool,” Lee said.

“As long as—”

“Yes, Quidditch practises, we know,” Hermione said, “We just need to decide where we’re going to meet.”

Glances were traded. Someone suggested the library, another an unused classroom, but all of them were thrown out. They decided that they would figure it out, and would send a message out when they had a place.

Hermione rummaged through her bag and pulled out a piece of paper and a quill, and she took a deep breath as if preparing to say something. “I-I think everybody should write their name down just so we know who was here. But I also think,” she took a deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge—or anybody else—what we’re up to.” 

Fred snatched the quill immediately and signed, but the rest of the group seemed less keen. “Er—” Zacharias said. “I’m sure Ernie can tell me when the meetings are.”

Percy snorted, leaning forward to grab the quill, and messily scrawling out his name. He heard a conversation behind him, probably them all trying to explain their hesitance. “Look,” Percy cut in, silencing the murmurs, “You have to commit.”  
  


“You can’t give half an effort. You’re either all in,” He said as he turned to Zacharias. He narrowed his eyes, “Or you’re out and you never speak of this again. It’s not that hard.”

“Ernie,” Hermione added, “Do you think I’ll just leave the list lying around?”

“Er, no, of course not…” He sighed, grabbed the quill, and signed. After Ernie, no one, not even Zacharias raised a protest about the signing, and once it was done, Hermione slipped the parchment in her bag.

The group separated, but Percy did not miss the newfound confidence and swagger of the group.

* * *

**XXII - Loose Lips Sink Ships**

**Two Days Later**

* * *

Piper watched closely as Jason poured the ingredients into their shared cauldron, looking for the reaction that would signify they were correct in their measurements. But she found her attention constantly pulled away as Umbridge, who was surveying the lesson, spoke periodically.

“May I ask how long you’ve been teaching here?”

Snape’s face was impassive, but Piper could see the coldness in his eyes, “Fourteen Years,” he drawled.

“And you first applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, if I’m correct?” Piper and Jason exchanged a surprised glance.

“Yes,” Snape hissed, face curiously becoming more alight with flames.

“And you were unsuccessful?”

“ _Obviously_.”

Piper sighed, and Jason glanced at her. Umbridge passed the two, glancing into their cauldrons, before giving a small tut and passing on. Jason rolled his eyes, muttering obscenities under his breath. 

“You saw the notice this morning?” Piper asked as the din of the room rose. Not looking up from the cauldron, he gave a tiny nod. It was so tiny, in fact, that anyone watching him could have passed it off as a whole host of things. 

“Who do you think blabbed?” She whispered as they departed from the classroom half an hour later. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “There were plenty of people in the bar, and any of them could have let something slip.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And Umbridge has ears everywhere.”

“Unfortunately,” Piper muttered.

“Don’t look now,” he sighed, “It’s that Malfoy brat and his posse.”

“Just walk by them,” She said, “Don’t acknowledge them.”

The couple passed the gaggle of students, who shot poor and uncreative insults at the two. Once they were passed, they exchanged an amused, yet strained glance. The insults were funny to them, no doubt, but it was still a reminder of how little the students saw the Demigods as their kin, which was what they were supposed to do.

The quest wasn’t ruined, but none of them could have expected the way certain professors and students frayed their already thin patience. And with grief hanging so low over their heads and the upcoming Winter, they were set for old and harsh darkness.

* * *

**XXIII - Restraint**

**One Week Later**

* * *

Percy tapped the railing nervously, trying to drown out the singing surrounding him. 

His lip curled as another nasty verse, directed towards Ron Weasley, started up, clearly not helping him as he defended his goal post. Piper was sitting next to him, her eyes searching for the golden ball, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

Percy leapt out of his seat when one of the balls, a bludger if he remembered correctly, hit Harry in the side, outrage on the tip of his tongue. But then he held up his hand, and the light caught on the tiny golden ball in his hand.

A roar went up from the Gryffindor house, and Piper and Percy rushed to the field to congratulate the person who they had become semi-close to. Once they reached the pitch, they exchanged a glance.

Their friends, who had arrived just before they did, standing behind the Gryffindor team. Malfoy stood in front of them, pompous and arrogant as always. Percy heard what he was saying, “—we couldn’t fit in useless loser either—for his father, you know—” 

Percy glanced at the team to see the Weasley twins, rage barely contained on their faces. Percy growled a low and barely heard sound. Their friends had their arms, but Percy felt his rage grow when he addressed his friends,

“Was thinking about adding in the half breeds too! Lazy sods for the boys and useless whores for the gi—” Percy wasn’t aware of moving, because all rationality was replaced with rage. Burning, uncontrollable, _rage_ . _And it felt good._ Like a breath of fresh air, the climax of a song.

_The sea doesn’t like to be restrained_ , his mind roared, _you are the sea._

There was a logical part of him, somewhere, screaming a thousand and two reasons that this was dumb, screaming to remember Umbridge. But the passion gave way. He didn’t feel his hand connect with the side of Malfoy's face, didn’t realise he had said the command for his blades until he felt arms holding him back.

The waves, crashing and pounding, receded to a gentle lull as he registered the scene. Malfoy of the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. Fred, George and Harry, who he would later be told rushed to Malfoy after he did, stalking to the castle.

The blades in his boots were in full display, catching against the sunlight. He felt a vice grip on his upper arm as he fought to get to the little bastard. Malfoy was staring in horror at him, his face pale and aghast as he took in the rage painted on Percy’s face.

But suddenly, Malfoy was up, and Percy was out of the grip somehow. Malfoy rushed towards him and threw a sloppy punch, and Percy was too surprised to even react. The punch, messy and uncoordinated, hit him in the jaw still, causing him to stagger. He moved to retaliate, but there were now arms surrounding him, preventing him from moving, so he fought back.

“Percy, stop it!” He heard Jason hiss into his ear.

Percy squared his jaw, glaring at Malfoy even more, causing the boy to shrink back. “Percy I’m serious—”

“Mister Jackson,” came Professor Severus Snape's drawl, “Care to explain yourself?”

Percy finally wrenched himself out of Jason’s grip, brushing the dust of his robes as he met the professor’s eyes, chin up. “He was being an asshole, and I think that’s plenty an explanation—”

The professor’s eyes were burning as he took Percy by the arm, wrenching him close, “Answer me, Jackson.” He spat.

  
Percy’s lip curled. Despite being in his house, a house he had a noticeable bias towards, Severus Snape had never liked him. He pulled himself out Snape’s grip, cold eyes burning, “Don’t you _ever_ touch me again.” He growled before stalking away to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick timeline change, in chapter 8 I said it was almost October. That chapter is now taking place in October, so assume right now its late-October to mid-November.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know I left a part of me back in New York  
> You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?  
> You knew it still hurts underneath my scars  
> From when they pulled me apart"

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Song: hoax, Taylor Swift

* * *

**XXIV - The Only Kin**

**Evening**

* * *

“But did you _have_ to punch him?” 

“Leo leave him alone, for gods’ sake.” 

“Annabeth, c’mon, it’s a valid question—”

“Leo shut up, _please_.” she pleaded, sending a glance at her boyfriend. The group had assembled in the library, and Percy had curled up near one of the windows as he looked out onto the grounds and held the ice pack Will had given him to his bruised jaw.

“Perce, honey, you okay?” Annabeth asked for what had to be the hundredth time. He gave a mute nod. “Hey,” she said, “Umbridge may not tell the Minister—”

“Annabeth,” he spoke for the first time, “Don’t give me that hope, okay?” He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing, as the rain continued to pour outside. A clap of thunder shook the castle.

“Jason do you know if this is you’re dads doing?” Someone had asked when the storm rolled in. Jason had just shrugged, unsure.

“Well, it was only a matter of time until—” Jason said.

“Until what?” Percy said sharply. “Until I messed everything up? Until I got expelled?”

“You’re not getting expelled Percy, and no that’s not what he was saying,” Annabeth assured. 

“Could have beat me,” Percy grumbled, pressing closer to the window. They sat in tense and awkward silence for a few long minutes, until Percy suddenly stood and declared he was going for a walk.

“I’ll join,” Annabeth said. Percy sent her a glance she couldn’t decipher but didn’t protest.

They left the library and pulled the hoods of their robes low over their faces. The group had pretty much stayed away from the rest of the school, except in class, and weren’t keen on being noticed. Percy slipped his hand in hers. She squeezed it.

He was heading outside, Annabeth noticed, too little surprise. Percy had always loved the rain and she didn’t find it curious that he would immediately want to go out into it. As they passed the entry hall, they both noticed that when Harry and his friends passed by them, they were beaming.

Percy opened the doors and the two of them stepped into the rain. Whether it was because of an anti-water charm on the robes, or Percy’s own magic, not a drop of rain went through their robes. 

They went off on a random path. Eventually, in the distance, they saw the hut that always seemed to be empty, but it no longer seemed empty. There was a warm glow coming from inside of it, and the sweet sound of barks.

They both had heard about the half-giant who lived there, rather warily taking in all news of him. He was kind according to Harry and co, but Malfoy had never missed an opportunity to diss him.

“What do you say,” Percy asked over the wind, “Shall we see if someone’s home?”

Annabeth nodded, and they walked closer to the house. Percy knocked on the door.

“Comin’,” a deep, rumbling voice said from inside. The door opened to show the half-giant, peculiarly holding a steak over one eye. “Uh, hi.” Percy said, “We, uh, heard about you and wanted to see if someone was home—”

“Ye’re the transfers, right? Dumbledore told me about you.” He said, a kind smile on his face.

“Uh yeah, we are. I’m Annabeth, this is Percy,” Annabeth said, trying to hide her wariness as she gestured to Percy, who gave a wave.

“Come in, come in. Ever since Dumbledore told me about ye lot, ey’ve been excited to meet ye!” He said merrily.

“Uh, do you know _everything_ about us?” Percy questioned.

The man gave them a kind smile, “Yes, yes, and ey know ye’re bound to not trust me, bein’ half-giant and all. But come in, ey don’t bite!” Percy and Annabeth exchanged a glance, both not sensing any danger around this man. So, they stepped inside to the warm cottage.

The ceilings were surprisingly high making Percy, someone who had all but accepted the fact that the godly genes that made him tall would always compete with ceilings and doorways. The cottage itself was homey and larger than normal.

They sat in the slightly large chairs as he poured tea for them. They politely took the drinks, sipping lightly at the drink. The man sat down, flashing a warm smile at the demigods.

They soon fell into a comfortable conversation. Neither Percy nor Annabeth commented on the wounds on his face, understanding that he was likely not keen on discussing the wounds. They learned that Rubeus Hagrid, that was his name, was actually…

_Pretty cool._

He was an adventurer in a way, and passionate. He told them about all types of animals and he and Percy had a long, long conversation about Pegasi and other horse-like creatures. He was courteous and kind, and while he may have taken a few more swigs of his drink than he should have, he was, nice.

The other teachers were all strict or cruel, and no one had reached out a true and warm friendship to any of the exchanges. Annabeth’s roommates, however, close the three had grown, would and could never know the truth of her world. This man could, in fact, he was from their world, a half-breed in the same way they were.

It could be that Hagrid was trying to prove he was the good guy, understanding full well the meaning of his half-giant status to them, but if that was the true intention, Percy and Annabeth didn’t notice. 

It seemed that Percy and Annabeth, and to an extent the exchanges, had found a friend in the Scottish Highlands.

* * *

**XXV - Declare**

**Many Weeks Later**

* * *

Annabeth knew something was amiss the second she woke up.

Her roommates, Ciara and Amabilia, were sitting next to each other in Ciara’s bed, the sheets drawn around them in a way that suggested they had fallen asleep next to one another. But the more interesting thing was perhaps the fact that they were whispering and glancing at her.

It was Ciara who first noticed she was awake, “Moring,” she said quickly, “Professor Flitwick told us to tell you to go to Professor Dumbledore’s office as soon as you can? He also said something about Fizzing Whizbees—”

Annabeth sat up a bit straighter, warily eyeing the two, “Did he say what for?”

They both shook their heads. “But I would get a move on,” Amabilia said. Annabeth nodded, jumping out of her bed. 

She pulled on her school clothes and grabbed her bags. She didn’t have time to grab any of her extra daggers to hide in her cloak, so she made a promise to herself that she would go back for them.

She rushed out of the dorm, flying down the stairs. At the landing with Reyna’s dorm, the girl herself grabbed her arm, asking if she had gotten the message too. When Annabeth said yes, Reyna nodded and they took off. 

Leo Valdez caught them just as they were leaving obviously having gotten the same message.

Due to a rather interesting weekend where Annabeth's ADHD decided that she had to know the layout of the castle or else, she knew where the Headmasters Office lay, and knew it was behind a stone gargoyle, password protected. If she had to guess, the line about Fizzing Whizbees was a hint.

They pushed past the students on the stairs, needing to go down one level. On their way there, they met up with Thalia, Jason, and Frank, coming from the Gryffindor tower. Together, they rushed down the corridor, approaching the gargoyle in seconds.

Annabeth didn’t know who shouted the code, or if it was multiple people, all she registered was the gargoyle jumping out of the way, and the group taking the stairs two at a time. They reached the door, and Annabeth, not wanting to startle the Headmaster, knocked.

“Come in,” came a voice from the inside.

Annabeth opened the door and noticed two things.

The first was that the office was gorgeous. Portraits hung on the walls, and every shelf was filled with books or strange instruments. The windows were tall and curved, the morning glow catching on the instruments. 

The second was the rest of the group had arrived. Percy was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, Riptide rolling across his knuckles, a nervous tic. Will was standing behind him, hands steadying him on the top of the chair.

Nico was in the corner, Hazel by his side as he brooded. Calypso and Piper were standing somewhere between the two groups. The rest of the group filed in.

Annabeth took the chair after Reyna gestured for her too. Reyna copied Will's posture behind Annabeth, as Thalia hoovered near the two. Frank went close to Nico and Hazel, and Leo and Jason stood next to the girls.

The Professor spoke for the first time once they were settled, “You must be wondering not only why I called you here today, but why I have not spoken to you, even though I am the one who called you here.”

The group stiffened instantly, becoming cold as they were reminded of the man's meddling in their peaceful life. “Yes,” Reyna drawled, face beyond cold and her eyes narrowing, “ _We are_.”

Dumbledore just glanced at her, not acknowledging the animosity towards him. “I must apologise for the latter. I have had much on my plate, and I found you all adjusted rather well. And I do trust that Chiron gave you enough information on your jobs while at Hog—”

“I would like to make it clear, Professor, with all due respect,” Percy said, a tone almost mocking, “That we are not your workers. We are not your chess pieces. We can and will leave if the need arises. But of course, enlighten us. Why did you call us here?”

There was a split second where Dumbledore looked irate, but he quickly regained his composure, clearing his throat before speaking. “Two things happened last night. Lord Voldemort's snake, Nagini, attacked Arthur Weasely, the Weasley Twins and Ron’s father.”

The group froze, slowly all piling their stares on the man. Unperturbed, he pressed on, “Arthur is a member of The Order of the Phoenix, a rebel organization from the first war that has recently been reinstated. He was on watch at the Ministry, and holds valuable information.”

“How’d you learn of this?” Nico asked, face showing his trouble.

“Mister Potter, somehow saw this incident in his dreams last night.” The statement hung in silence in the room for a moment.

People glanced at Percy, who frowned, “I’ll talk to Carter Kane. He’s an ally of ours and his people may know how this could happen. We could also talk to some of our friends, they may have an idea.” The professor nodded, giving his thanks.

“Your activities director sent me a letter last night,” he started after a moment of tense silence as the group mulled over what they had heard. Heads snapped up to look at him.

“Oh?” Annabeth said tersely. 

The Professor glanced around the room, taking in the tense and waiting looks he was getting before sighing and hanging his head. “Voldemort's Death Eaters made another attempt at your Camps. He reports no casualties and only a handful of major injuries but,”

The man looked older all of a sudden, “Chiron told me that your gods are threatening war.”

The room was frozen. Annabeth had grabbed Percy’s hand, and he was rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as he took it in. Thalia’s lips were thin. Reyna looked troubled.

It was Hazel who spoke, “We all know that Lord Jupiter will not spare _any_ wizards.” Mute nods. “We—” she sighed.

“I’ll talk to my father,” Percy said. “I’ll try to get them to wait until the end of this year. Until we’ve had a chance to fight the asshole and scare him off us.”

Nico agreed, but there was something more in his eyes, a different gleam. “I’m aware of the prophecy,” Dumbledore gave him a surprised look, and Nico smiled, “Ghosts talk. As I was saying, I’m aware of the fact none of us will be able to kill him.”

“I’m also aware of the fact that he has used _Horcruxes_ ,” He spat out the word like it was poison, “To split his soul. I may be the ghost king, but that’s beyond even my control. However, if we scare him off of Demigods, and make sure Harry can survive a little longer…”

“There’ll be no need for War,” Frank finished, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, that’ll work.” He smiled. “That’ll work.” 

Dumbledore's smile faded though, “There is one more thing he said, however.” The room straightened, eyeing him. 

“Yes?” Reyna said.

“Chiron asks that you stay in England over the break. With the Order of the Phoenix.” Two beats of silence—

“What?”

“No!”

“What the fu—”

“That wasn’t agreed on!”

“Didn’t Chiron say—”

“My mom—”

“Yes,” Dumbledore cut in. “I am aware of all of that.” He sighed, “Chiron thought it best that you stay with the order this winter, for fear of Voldemort attacking you while you travel...and he thought that it may be good for you to meet the order.” His eyes displayed a nervousness, his true intentions revealed. 

The group eyed him with wary stares. It seemed almost like something Chiron would say, they would give Dumbledore that, but why would he be concerned about them being attacked. He knew that they were capable and talented fighters, no? Obviously, Dumbledore knew less than he wanted them to believe. 

They looked to Annabeth, who was deep in thought, for guidance. Her slate-grey eyes met the Professors blue. She raised a slow and taunting brow at him. His face was blank. She lifted her chin, “We’ll go.”

The group filed out soon after, quiet and cold. When the door gently shut, the remaining man leaned back and gave a small, triumphant smile. Boreas whistled around the stones and his stern face watched the wizard. The western wind would hear his tidings and would come to the golden shores.

The Great Wizard had lied. And they knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware of the large timeskip here, its almost 7 weeks. But in OoTP, there's not a lot that I found important to add that happens around now. The only things are Dobby decorates the Room of Requirement and the DA have a meeting.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A hero of war  
> Is that what they see  
> Just medals and scars  
> So damn proud of me"

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Song: Hero of War, Rise Against

* * *

**XXVI - Heroes and Saviours**

**Two Days Later**

* * *

“It's...charming,” Percy commented, looking up at the black building that had sprouted between the two other houses. Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Home of the Order of the Phoenix.

“If by charming,” Piper commented, “You mean an ugly mess worthy of the underworld, I would agree.”

“Hey!” Nico and Hazel said at the same time.

“C’mon, c’mon,” The gruff man called Alastor Moody said, pushing past them and opening the door. They quietly filed in, taking in the dark interior. They set their bags on the floor, eyeing the shadowy place.

Suddenly a door opened, and a cheery woman with Red hair burst through, smiling. “Hullo, dears!” She said, before addressing Moody, “Arthur just arrived home, a week before Christmas!”

Moody grunted, and the woman turned back to the transfers, semi-awkwardly huddled close. “I’m Molly Weasely. It’s lovely to meet you!” They all gave awkward waves. 

“Leave your bags dears, lunch is almost ready. I’m sure you're famished!” The group nodded and set down their bags, quietly following her as she led them to what they assumed to be the main room. 

They stepped through the door and saw a sea of faces, some familiar most not. The Weasleys were all there, of course, as was Hermione and Harry, the latter of which looked beyond troubled and was sitting slightly away from the rest of them. 

But there was also a rather handsome man with hair just brushing his shoulders and tattoos all over, sat next to a roughspun man in a tweed coat with scars all over. There was also a woman with hair the colour of Bubblegum. 

In the corner, there was a couple, a man, whose red hair suggested he was also a Weasley, and a beautiful woman, whose beauty had the same haunting eldritch of the demigods themselves. Shifting eyes, both warm and dangerous, a sly smile, too sharp features in some lights.

The group smiled.

The greatest heroes of an age had met the only hope for the Wizarding world.

* * *

**XXVII - Survivours**

**Evening**

* * *

Percy and Annabeth were sitting on the back stoop, looking at the setting sun and watching the snow gently fall.

“Thalia’s birthday is tomorrow,” Percy said.

“And today would have been the festival of Poseidon back in ancient times,” Annabeth said.

“Why?” Percy asked.

“It’s the solstice,” Annabeth said quietly. Percy’s hand tightened in hers.

“I hate this time of year,” he muttered, bowing his head, fighting the tears. 

Annabeth sounded choked up, “I do too. And poor Nico—” She paused as a sob came out.

“Sometimes,” Percy whispered “I’ll dream I’m on Mount Tam again. But I can’t hold the sky, I’m not strong enough. And sometimes, in the worst ones, you couldn’t either.”

“But we did,” Annabeth said. “At least we did.”

They sat there for a few more minutes, watching the world. Suddenly they heard shouts, followed by a slamming door. Looking to their right, they saw Nico stalking out of another door that led to the backyard.

His hood was up, casting his face in shadow but from the scrunch of his shoulders and the way his feet were angrily kicked up the snow, it was obvious he wasn’t in a good mood. They exchanged a glance. 

“Nico?” Annabeth said loud enough to get his attention, but still with gentleness and warmth in them. He froze, back to them.

Now that he wasn’t moving they could see the shaking of his shoulders. They exchanged a glance and quietly walked over to him.

Annabeth reached him first, gently touching his shoulder, yet he still flinched away. He shook his head. Annabeth retracted her hand, stuffing them both into her pockets. “Hey.” She said gently.

“Hey, Annabeth,” His voice cracked halfway through.

“What’s going on?” She said. Percy placed a hand on her shoulder, watching in silence from behind her.

He shrugged, wiping away at something, possibly tears. Percy spoke next, “You wanna talk to someone?” His hand gently sat on Nico’s back. Nico flinched, the hot tears dripping down his face even more.

He shook his head. “Do you want us to go?” Annabeth said, voice as soft as always. Nico didn’t answer for a few silent beats but then, he shook his head. 

“Okay,” Annabeth breathed. Carefully and gently, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him to the stoop she and Percy had been curled up on only minutes before. 

He was leaning slightly on her, and Percy was on his other side, leg pressed to his as he leaned back, eyes closed. Nico’s hands were pressed to his eyes, elbows resting on his legs in front of him. His shoulders still shook.

They sat there until they were called for dinner.

Silent. 

Mourning.

Survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT: Starting Wednesday, there will be a sister fic to this one, called "Missing Moments". And it'll be exactly that, the missing moments from the fic, some of which you guys have asked about. I have a few chapters already, and I think yall will like some of the moments. But here's a question: What moments do you want to see? :) <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And the sights were as stark as my baby  
> And the cold was as sharp as my baby  
> And the nights were as dark as my baby  
> Half as beautiful too"

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Song: As It Was, Hozier

* * *

**XXVIII - Gold and Silver**

**Early March**

* * *

Thalia ran towards the noise, the echoes of her footfalls barely audible over the noise.

Up ahead, she saw a crowd, the people making it up moving and murmuring as the shouts from beyond them grew louder. Thalia pushed through, eyes landing on a sight that sent alarm bells ringing.

“NO!” The Divination Professor, Sybil Trelawney, sobbed. “You can't—” A choked sound came out of her throat, “Hogwarts is my home!”

An all too familiar tut could be heard. The woman who gave it, her face twisted up into cruelty, “Actually I can.” 

Thalia heard hurried footsteps to her left, as the crowd parted and Professor McGonagall rushed to her fellow teacher's aid. She comforted the woman, promising she wouldn’t have to leave Hogwarts. 

“Are you sure, Professor McGonagall?” The sickly sweet woman took a step forward “And your authority for that statement is...?” 

“That would be me,” A booming voice said as the front doors to the school opened, and Professor Dumbledore walked in, his silver-blue robes fluttering behind him. 

Umbridge's foul face twisted into an unconvincing smile, “Well Professor, I don’t think you quite understand my authority here; according to educational degree number—”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said slowly, “I am well aware. But as High Inquisitor, you have every right to dismiss my teachers. _But_ , you are not allowed to evict them from the premises. That right lies only in the Headmaster. And it is my wish that Sybil here continues to reside in Hogwarts. Minerva if you will—” He gestured to the trunks and Trelawney.

The herbology professor broke through the crowd to help McGonagall as she helped Sybil to her quarters. Umbridge's eyes were blazing, but her voice was as cool as ever, “And pray do tell, once I appoint a new Professor, who will need quarters, will you do with her?”

Dumbledore smiled, “That won’t be a problem seeing as,” The glimmer in his eyes was deadly, “I have already found a new Professor, whose lodgings will be on the ground floor.”

Umbridge turned very red then, her eyes widening, “ _FOUND_? Found—may I remind you Professor of educational decree number twenty-two-”

“—The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if—and only if—the headmaster is unable to find one,” said Dumbledore. “And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?” 

The sound of hooves could be heard and Thalia’s jaw dropped as she saw a centaur pull through the crowd. Gasps went up as Dumbledore gave Umbridge a pleasant grin, “This is Firenze. I’m sure you’ll find him suitable.”

“How dare—” Umbridge spluttered, “More half breeds—”

A smooth and very, very familiar voice cut through everything.

“Dolores Jane Umbridge,” The voice hissed from where the person it belonged to was crouched on the rafters. Firenze’s blue eyes glanced up, and he seemed to smile, possibly recognising the voice or the aura.

There was a flash of silver as the person jumped down. Standing there was Artemis, the Huntress herself. Thalia would recognise her lady anywhere.

On habit, Thalia opened her mouth, reverence and titles on her lips. Artemis held up her hand, and Thalia was silenced. The entry hall was deathly silent. Dumbledore looked surprised, Umbridge horrified, and Firenze stood still as he watched.

Umbridge spoke first, “You are trespassing—”

“I am never trespassing where there is forest. The forest is my home, and you, you vile little mortal, have made a mistake.”

Gasps went up as Artemis pulled her great bow from nowhere, notching an arrow and aiming it directly at her. Her auburn hair was almost floating around her in a halo, and her silver eyes seemed to glow in the yellow light of the hall.

Here, in the hall, amongst mortals, Thalia could see plain as day the godly ness of her lady. Eyes dark and wide, an unnaturally wide smile. She wasn’t even trying to look human.

“You have drawn the blood of Thalia, my lieutenant.” Thalia ignored the glances “I have one warning for you and be grateful for there will never be more.” She let her bowstring fall lose as she stepped closer to the woman, “Should you ever spill an unnecessary drop of blood again, I will send my wolves to you. Then my dogs. Then my huntresses. And finally, when you are on the brink of death, you will know my wrath.”

Umbridge drew her wand, her only defence mechanism. “I-I am the Hi-High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. I outnumber you—”

“Wanna bet?” Thalia couldn’t stop the groan that escaped between her teeth.

For where there was the moon, there was always the sun. The man himself, his golden bow strapped across his back, flashed Thalia a sly grin before steeling his features. He drew his bow, and Artemis followed suit.

Umbridge looked ready to wet herself as she slunk further down the wall she had been cornered into, all traces of confidence and steel gone. Gold and Silver arrows of fever and pestilence, the arrows of plague, inches from her heart.

“You are dealing with powers you cannot begin to comprehend,” Apollo said, a malicious grin on his face. “If you believe a centaur,” he glanced at Firenze, “Is sin and curse, you will find yourself forever surprised. The world is far far larger than you could ever dream. Choose your next steps wisely or…” He nodded to the twin bows.

“Thalia,” Artemis spoke, arrow unwavering. “ _Thalia my lieutenant,_ ” People jumped at the sudden language change, “ _Remember the forests. Run to me child, and do not forget the full moon._ ” The twins disappeared in a shower of gold and silver.

Thalia turned and ran.

* * *

**XXIX - As It Was**

**A Few Days Later**

* * *

The centaur was tall and broad-shouldered, and Nico di Angelo did not miss the girls who were practically drooling over him.

“Transfer students,” He said, something, perhaps mirth, in his voice, “Please stay behind.” He told them as the rest of the room filled out. Nico bit his lip, wanting to get out of the room with the twinkling stars.

The rest of the class failed to hide their fleeting glances, but soon enough they were gone, and the room almost relaxed. Nico looked around the room. Hazel was sitting next to Calypso, and Piper stood with Will. Nico was alone. 

There were a few moments of silence, and then the centaur commented, “Children of gods, at Hogwarts.” 

Eyes snapped up to meet him, and he smiled, “Seems I have your attention.”

“Why am I not even surprised you know about us?” Calypso muttered, “Seems like everyone does.”

The centaur was strange, his lips quirking up just a bit at Calypso’s comment. He folded his hands behind him, “I am of the same myths that you are, _Daughter of Atlas_ , so why wouldn’t I know?” Calypso gave a nod.

“What do you need?” Hazel said, her light voice carrying like a bird.

“I wish for context on what I have seen in the stars.” His eyes darkened. “They trouble me.”

“What have you seen?” Will asked, hands coming up to fiddle with his beaded necklace.

Firenze gave him a once over, “You are the son of Apollo, no?” Will nodded, and Firenze spoke again, “We honour your father, did you know that child? When we look at the stars, we look to him and the maiden for words and guidance.”

Firenze continued, “But you ask what I have seen, and I should tell you.”

The room became tenser as he spoke, his voice suddenly low and grave, “Pluto dims with every night. Mars is bright one hour, dim the next. Jupiter is brightening with the day, but Neptune dims. Venus has not been seen for months.” Nico and Hazel’s eyes met.

The room was silent. “Neptune…” Calypso said, looking sick “Is dim. That is ill news, my friend.” She muttered something in Greek, dark eyes swirling.

“I could provide a word on Mars’s state but not any of the other planets,” Will said, trouble etched deep into his face. Firenze gestured for him to go on. “The gods, they—” he cut off for a moment, his words coming back in a whisper. “—Want to wage war.”

Firenze was pale, his eyebrows raised in horror. “I-I-” he paused, the words sinking in. “Thank you.”

“Hazel?” Piper asked, glancing at her friend, whose eyes were pointed skywards. “What’s going on?”

Hazel did not look at Piper but instead met Nico’s eyes. Nico gave a slow nod. Hazel’s eyes returned upwards. When she spoke, she spoke simply, “Death is not what it once was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You lucky ducks get an extra chapter because MISSING MOMENTS FIRST TWO CHAPTERS ARE UP. Next chapters my all-time favourite and has a very fun MM chapter to go with it.  
> Again large time skip here. Missed moments are Stuff at Grimmauld Place, which may be covered in Missing Moments, Valentines Day (Yuck), a Quiddich Match, and the Quibbler story, which will be in Missing Moments.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've got to break free  
> God knows, God knows I want to break free.  
> I've fallen—"

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Song: I Want To Break Free, Queen

* * *

**XXX - Sneak**

**April 1**

* * *

The wall was gone.

The moon was full.

They had been sold out.   
  
His friends were running, fleeing to the forest, guided by the words of a huntress.

People were shouting, and screaming as they ran. The light of spells was flashing across the stones. Percy was heaving for his breath. He saw Harry fall and he turned to help when her voice could be heard over the din.

“Percy!” She cried. “Let’s go!”

_The wind around them whipping, terror in her eyes—_

_Down to hell. Away from light and salvation. A dream. Wasn’t it only a dream?_

He turned to her, flashing her a grin. _Let me help_ , he mouthed. _I’ll meet you in the forest. Get me a pegasus._ He wasn’t sure how much she understood, but she nodded mutely. She pressed her eyes tight as she turned and ran, gone in seconds.

The consequences of losing focus on the fight and focusing too much on her caught up when a spell hit his chest, knocking him back. Before he could move, he was lifted up by the collar and he saw a scene. 

Umbridge, grinning. Harry, nose dripping blood, another student with his wand inches from his head. Murder in both their eyes. Umbridge spoke, and suddenly they were all being dragged away.

Percy didn’t fight, needing to contain his strength. He knew where they were going, and the dread and hate of the open-air was what stirred his stomach as they climbed the stairs to the headmaster’s office.

The next few minutes were blurry. He must have hit his head. _Well_ , he thought, somewhat amused, _there goes my already shoddy memory_!

He bit back his anger when the girl who had blabbed came forward. He wasn’t sure if it was the betrayal in her or the sneak on her face, but his anger grew and grew. A ticking bomb. 

Percy stared at Dumbledore as he “admitted” to have started the army named after him. And when the heat of the Phoenix that he departed with faded, and he was pulled from the ground, and all eyes were on him, the situation set in.

Percy Jackson did not like Albus Dumbledore. But that man had been the barrier, the dam, against Umbridge and her conquest.

Percy Jackson, now heaving for breaths, the weight of the situation lying heavily, took a step back. Professor McGonagall, hands-on her students' shoulders, watched in horror, knowing what was next.

“Mister Jackson,” Umbridge laughed. Percy did not flinch. She smiled and drew her wand, the rest of the room followed suit. He did not meet the man named Kingsley Shacklbolt’s remorseful eyes, knowing he was undercover.

The Minister spoke, “The _half-breed_. You, boy, are under arrest for murder and conspiring to undermine our Government.” The words shook Percy out of his daze.

“I would not lie, Minister. You have no idea what you’re teetering on,” Percy warned, the coldness seeping in. “I would not do this.”

“Save your words for the interrogation, _boy_ ,” Someone spat. 

Percy’s next moments were so sudden, it seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Riptide, the godly glow casting long shadows in the dim room, was now in his hands. And in every aspect of him, Percy Jackson shifted. 

His eyes hardened, and a light glow came over them. The sword in his hand, being eyed warily by his opponents, sharpened to a point so fine, it was invisible to the naked eye. The smell of salt, growing and growing. Was this the man who he truly was? The man who was a hero, a prince, a leader, a bastard of one of the three great kings? A child of a broken line of betrayal and paranoia?

Perseus. Poseidon. Kronos. Ouranos. _Too much like his father._

Multiple people shouted a curse. Percy managed to deflect most of them, but it was a surprise one, coming seconds after the rest that hit his side and sent him back for the second time in the night, towards the open window. 

He landed on his sword hand, a loud crack sounding. He hissed, but picked up the sword, ignoring the pain and shaking of his arm.

It was the cool wind from the window that made him remember what he had told Annabeth. He looked up at the room, taking in everything. The bookshelves, the portraits, the hundreds of metal instruments. The beams. He thought, trying to remember what Annabeth had told him about architecture and supports, and calculating the distance, as the wizards slowly pressed forward. 

Percy Jackson made his decision.

He whistled for Blackjack, the noise deafening as he threw Riptide at one of the beams. He didn’t look back as he jumped out of the window, the air whipping around him. 

The ground was coming up too fast. He was going to die.

But then he saw Blackjack, and reached, barely latching onto one of Blackjacks wings as he passed. He howled, remembering the break. Sweating, tears prickling the back of his eyes, he pulled himself up.

They flew on, heading to the lake, to the forest.

A flash of red passed him, and he ducked. It missed him by inches.

They were so close.

Another spell.

Another one.

Through gritted teeth, “Almost there Black—”

He felt the mind-numbing pain, and seconds later, Blackjack’s cry of pain. He was bucked from the saddle. And for the second time that night, Percy Jackson was falling.

* * *

**XXXI - The Difference Between and Inch and a Mile**

* * *

What is the difference between an inch and a mile?

It is not the wind, time, pain or distance even.

It is the mortality.

  
Falling from an inch is nothing.

A mile will kill you.

Your spine will crack like lightning, your screams will die on your lips, and your eyes, now unblinking and dull, will stare ahead. You will die.

Percy Jackson was not falling from an inch or a mile.

But he is falling, all the same, the ground rushing up to meet him, his screams breaking through the night air. 

In the forest, a blonde woman looks up in horror.

In the castle, two girls, curled in their bed, roommate missing, wake up in the dark.

A boy with a lightning scar cannot breathe as he imagines the falling boy at the end of his fall.

In the sky, gods watch in horror. The king of them all is frozen. He should move. He owes the hero this, he bitterly admits. He cannot move. His wife, gently horrified, takes his hand.

And deep in the ocean, the dark waves lapping, a hand slacks and a trident clatter to the sea bed, and a King stops, green eyes looking up. 

A hero falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I need you to run to me, run to me, lover  
> Run until you feel your lungs bleeding"

###  **_Part Four: Fall_ **

_The world is falling. People are missing. Alliances are teetering. The world is one step closer to war._

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Song: Run, Hozier

* * *

**XXXII - Greedy**

**One Minute Later**

* * *

Percy lands on the sand.

He is alive, for a moment, all he knows is that.

Then the pain overtakes him in moments. The pain in his hand is nothing to the pain in his leg, the screaming. He is sobbing, gasping for breath. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses. 

He can feel the bone, broken through the skin, and the gushing blood. It’s washing over him like the waves he controls. His tears soak the sand below him. He wants to get up. He can’t move.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ ”

It's the lapping of the waves, the sound growing louder and louder over his sobs, that makes him move. Biting back the screams, he slowly drags himself to the water. He can hear the shouts of wizards, probably looking for him, the light of their wands casting long shadows across the sand. 

He continues to move, silent sobs making him shudder. He is five feet away. 

The light is getting brighter.

Four feet.

Is this what it’s like to die?

Three feet.

He’s really going to die here, crawling to the waves like some pathetic wimp.

Two feet.

Someone says that they found him.

One foot.

_No_.

His hand touches the water, and for a few moments, there's a relief. The power of his father thrums through him, the pain slowly going down. He drinks it up, _greedy, greedy, greedy._ He will never forget this. He is a greedy little man, taking and not giving, but the daydream only lasts so long.

He’s wrenched from the water, and he screams as the pain comes back. His greedy heart screams for the water.

The hands holding him are rough, and he is dragged away. The feral growl escapes between his teeth and he says the command. The blades pop out and he ignores his broken leg and the muscles that rip as he moves and digs the blades into the man holding him’s legs.

A scream breaks through the air and Percy is dropped, rolling a bit as he does. His hand flops out, barely brushing the water. The energy thrums through him weakly, and he bites back the laugh. He’s screwed, he knows that.

But laying here on the surf with blood from his leg and the blades caked in it, something feels good. The stars glimmer overhead and he smiles, coughing. He wonders if anything else is broken. His body aches all over. 

  
A shout breaks through the air, “PERCY!” Percy tries to move, but before he can there's a flash of light in his peripheral vision and the shouts stop. More people are probably approaching. Percy's eyes flutter shut.

“Annabeth,” his final whisper, prayer for his sin, a reply to the shout. He opens his eyes one more time, and he finds that beautiful constellation. His eyes close for a final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are now Time Stamps!!! You'll notice if you go back that the past few chapters have large time skips, but any moment I missed is in the Notes, and some I'm saving for missing moments.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

NFWMB, Hozier

* * *

**XXXIII - At the Same Time**

* * *

The scream, the far to familiar scream, the scream, the scream. Echoing in her head, tearing at her heart, pushing tears forward, and causing a sob to claw into her throat.

She reaches the edge of the forest just as he hits the sand. She can’t see him clearly in the moonlight, but all she can do is pray for his solace in the lapping waves. A light catches her eye, and she presses closer to the shadows as she sees the wizards.

The glare from their wands causes her to squint, her night vision having been ruined. She can hear them talking, and there are a few quiet minutes. Then she hears the shout, a gruff and loud voice, “I found him!”

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ Athena, help him. _

Then, she sees him, bloody and bruised. His leg is beyond broken, and she can’t help the gag that comes from the sight of the bone ripped through his skin. He’s pale, his hair pressed to his forehead from sweat and blood. A scream escapes her.

“PERCY!” She rushes up, ready to give these bastards a piece of mind, but a spell hits her point-blank and she’s thrown back, stunned. She meets a large tree, and there's a resounding crack and the world suddenly tilts and goes black.

* * *

**XXXIV - Words**

* * *

“Annabeth, Annabeth, wake up,” the words float past her, a stream. “Annabeth, I swear to the gods, please, wake up. We have to go…” Words, words, words, “Percy.”

Her eyes fly open, and she lurches forward.  _ Where is he, is he okay? Percy, please let him be okay, oh sweet Athena, he fell, he fell, he fell— _

“Whoa, whoa, breathe.” The world focuses, and she sees Jason, worry and pain on his face. The sunlight is streaming through the trees. He helps her up, and Annabeth sits frozen for a moment, the memories of last night crashing and pounding into her. She doesn’t register the tears on her face, the throb of her ribs, or even the gentle rubbing on her lower back.

“Jason, Percy he—”

“—I know.”

“They took him.”

He hangs his head, and his voice breaks as he repeats again that he knows. Annabeth stares at the sunlight, and she quietly asks him how long she’s been out.

“We couldn’t find you last night, even with the full moon. So we picked up looking for you at dawn. I just found you. Can you walk?” He says, helping her up.

Annabeth tries her weight. “I can walk, just, just…” She trails off. “Stay close.  _ Please _ .”

“I’ve got you, Chase,” He says gently. They take off.

Eventually, they reach the makeshift camp her friends set up the night before. All her friends are there, and they leap to their feet when they see her. It’s Will who stays by her side as she finally breaks down into sobs, the heartwrenching noises echoing. 

He heals her ribs, and she hugs him, before sitting in silence, watching nothing. A soft nuzzling snaps her out her daydreaming. She looks down to see Argo and her big yellow eyes staring back at her. Janus was behind her.

“Oh, hello,” she says softly, reaching out her arm for Argo. She brings the owl to her lap, and together they sit, Janus at her feet. Argo is gentle and silly, and Janus watches her friends with wary eyes.

Annabeth would never learn that her mother had sent the owls to them, but she did have the peculiar feeling that someone was with her right now, in the form of Argo and Janus.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Held on to hope like a noose, like a rope  
> God and medicine take no mercy on him  
> Poisoned his blood, and burned out his throat"

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

Song: Long Way From Home, The Lumineers

* * *

**XXXV - A Tense Reunion**

**Evening**

* * *

Ciara stepped into her room, quiet and tense. Her tension was barely eased when she saw Amabilia on her bed, face stormy and troubled as she scratched away at her homework. Ama spoke, “Have you seen Annabeth at all today?”

Ciara opened her mouth to speak, but a tense and familiar voice spoke, “You have now.”

Both girls' heads snapped to the corner as Annabeth Chase shimmered into existence, a blue hat coming off her head. They both shouted her name but she cut them off with a glare. “Be quiet,” she snapped. “I don’t need too many people knowing I’m in the castle.”

Ciara, wary and tense, sat next to her beloved Ama, their hands intertwining instantly. “What’s going on?” She said. The room was tenser than it had ever been, and Ciara couldn’t help but mourn for the moments that deep in her soul, she knew were never coming back.

The midnight talks, the flutter of the mornings. Annabeth’s teasing eyes watching them from over her book as they curled close to each other. Her telling them muggle myths, the shine in her eyes when she talked about _her_ love. Teases and prods.

Gone was the soft smiling and princess curls of the Annabeth they knew. Her hair was pulled back harshly, the sharpness of her face suddenly becoming apparent. Her eyes, no longer silver, stone-cold, burning with pain and fury.

“I need your help.” She said curtly as she dragged out the two large and heavy trunks. 

“With what?” Ciara said.

Annabeth sighed, as she opened the trunks. “I am about to tell you a lot of very important and very secret things in a very short amount of time.” She met their eyes. “You will tell no one of any of this unless I allow you too.”   
  


“Okay,” Ama said after a moment, tucking a braid behind her ear. “What’s going on?”

* * *

**XXXVI - The Twin Blades of Wisdom**

* * *

“I—” Ciara said, “ _What_?”

Annabeth bit back her sigh. “Look I know, I know it's a lot, being told about...everything.” She gestured vaguely. “But I really, really need your help right now.”

“Where is Percy now?” Amabilia said, running a hand over her face. 

For a second, Annabeth's face crumpled, the pain of losing him fresh. “Likely somewhere Ministry related. My guess is somewhere in the actual Ministry of Magic complex.”

The two girls nodded. “So your mom…”

“Athena.” Her voice was beyond tense at the mention of her mother, a curious thing.

“Is a goddess.” Annabeth nodded and Ciara gave a breathless laugh. “And I thought _my_ life was weird.” Annabeth gave the barest hint of a grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She had told them everything. The gods, the Order, Potter’s connection to it all. She begged them to help, to recruit the order. They couldn’t quite understand her plea and why her eyes shone with so much pain, but they agreed.

There was something unspeakably wrong about seeing Annabeth Chase, a brave and strong and proud and brash girl, with tears in her eyes and a plea so beyond them. The grief had burrowed deep into her, and if the weakness in her eyes said anything, the pain was far more than mental.

And then when Annabeth met their eyes one more time, the sob escaped her, finally. She lifted her head up, trying to stop the tears as they poured. She could taste salt. Suddenly, a tight and unexpected hug crashed into her.

For a moment, Annabeth stood there, shaking and crying before she wrapped her arms around the other girl, clinging to her shirt. She could feel someone else join the hug, and for a few moments, they clung to each other. 

Annabeth pulled away first and gave the two other girls a watery smile. There were still a hundred unsaid things between them, things that didn’t need knowing. Annabeth steps back and looks at the two girls one more time. 

Ciara, her hair short and her eyes fiery. Squared shoulders and the brawn melding perfectly with the beauty. Amabilia, her upturned eyes and hundreds of braids, the soft and secretive smile. Annabeth glances around the room one final time.

“Your trunks…” Ciara says, “We’ll bring them to you if you need.” 

Annabeth shakes her head. “Just replace the false bottoms and keep them away from Umbridge.”

“What's in there?” Ama says. 

“Armour, polish, medicine, two knives—” Annabeth gets an idea, wicked and smart. She gently grabs the two blades and their sheaths and after a long final look at them, extends them to her friends.

The girls stare blankly. “I…” Ciara says, “I don’t know how to use a knife.”

Annabeth has to smile, “My mother will guide you. Metis will guide you. These blades are named Athena Promachus, for strategy and plans, and Metis, for the titans that sired her. They will guide you. Promise.” A crooked grin worthy of Percy.

They take the blades, glittering in the dying light of the day.

Right before Annabeth pulled on her hat, she met the new bearers of the twin blades of wisdom eyes and dipped her head, speaking in the tongue of the gods, “May she guide you.”

Annabeth was gone.

* * *

**XXXVII - Plea to the Pain**

* * *

Percy Jackson, beyond words, beyond screams, beyond thought or comprehension, wanted to die. Float away, stop this miserable existence. There was nothing left.

He didn’t know the answers to their questions, he didn’t want to give answers to some. He knew some, knew none, knew only pain and the sound of his screams ringing in his ears. 

Percy Jackson wasn’t pious. But prayers to every god he could think of were spilling out of his mouth, angering the interrogator more. _Crucio_ , the man said. His body was being stripped raw, the nerves being flayed alive and dipped in lava. Knives in his back, lava down his throat. 

_Crucio_ , the man said.

_Stop_ , Percy pleaded.

_Crucio_ , the man laughed.

_Dad_ , Percy prayed.

_Crucio_ , the man screamed.

_Please_ , Percy begged.

The man laughed and questioned.

Percy screamed and prayed.

He didn’t know what he had said, what he had given up, or if the interrogator had simply gotten bored, but suddenly Percy was alone, drowning in his pain. Children of the sea do not drown, Percy thought.

I will not drown.

I will not drown.

I will not… drown…

His eyes fluttered shut and he took a shaky breath before the darkness of the realm of sleep blindsided him like a riptide in the sea, and Percy was caught and sunk.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus  
> When her body was found (Hey ya)  
> I'd be the choiceless hope in grief  
> That drove him underground (Hey ya)  
> I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee  
> That made him turn around (Hey ya)  
> And I'd be the immediate forgiveness  
> In Eurydice  
> Imagine being loved by me!"

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

Song: Talk, Hozier

* * *

**XXXVIII - History Pages**

**One Day Later**

* * *

“Potter!” 

Harry whirled to see two seventh year Ravenclaws he vaguely recognised rushing to him, Hermione, and Ron. 

They reached him, “Can we talk to you three for a second?”

“About what?”

“The transfer students and the Order of the Phoenix.”

…

“So the transfer students are demigods.”

“Yes.”

“And they need help rescuing one of them.”

“Sure.”

“And we believe he’s being held at the Ministry.”

“Correct.”

“And you need the Order of the Phoenix's help?”

“Yep.”

Ron leaned back in his chair, taking in all the information.

He hadn’t studied or learned about Muggles and their strange gods and religions, so he was grateful that Hermione and Harry seemed to know what these two were talking about. But mainly, the redheaded girl was doing all the talking while the other girl sat silently, watching.

Harry looked troubled, and Hermione looked the same, but she seemed much less surprised. It seemed like the pieces had clicked together for her, and she was starting to slowly understand the weight of what they had been told. They gave the location of the Order and promised to send letters ahead of time to its members.

The girls, Amabilia and Ciara, departed and the trio rushed off to dinner. They slid into their seats and ate quickly.

To neither boy's surprise, Hermione dragged them to the library. She poured through the shelves in the “Muggle Literature” section of the library, which was only a few old, dusty, and sparse shelves.

She ran her hands over the books as she looked for the one she needed. Eventually, she muttered a “Found it,” and pulled out a tall book with a deep blue cover. They looked around for an empty and secluded spot, and once they found it, stopped their bags and got to work.

Luckily, it was the weekend, so they didn’t have to worry about getting homework done immediately. Instead, they poured over the myths, the stories, the poems.

They learned about the Titans, the Primordials, the Gods. The Giants, the Half-Bloods, the monsters. The conquests, the betrayals, the affairs and the rapes. The passion of one love and the burn out of another. They learned of kings and queens, revenge and those who fell ill to it.

They learned about the King of them all and his Wife. The King of the sea, their sister, the goddess of grain. About the man on the obsidian throne, his wife with the flowers in her hair, and the virgin of the hearth. About the twin archers, the wise one, the wrathful. The crippled blacksmith and his unfaithful wife, and her child with his arrows and malice. The mad brewer of wine, and the fleet-footed messenger.

And in the raging fire, a woman smiled and watched.

* * *

**XXXIX - Mythos**

* * *

She approached her brother silently, eyeing his slouched form and trident that pointed up in a harshly straight line. His loose posture didn’t fool her, the earthshaker was not pleased. 

He had fully intended to find his son, rain hell, remind the wizards that they were specks beneath him. But the power of the ancient laws, laws he had bound himself to over blood and adamite, had stopped him. The howl that had escaped him as the chance to be there for his son was ripped from him would haunt her for a long time.

“Hera,” he said, not looking at her. “Sister. What do you want?”

“You know what I have come to talk to you about,” She says, straightening her chiton. He looks at her slowly. 

“My son is being tortured, and I have been barred from coming to his aid. I do not need your cold council, your silver tongued words.” His hands tighten on his weapon, forged by the Cyclops.

“Do you truly think me that cold, brother?”

“You stole my son from his bed.” He rises, walking over to her. “Your pity is worthless.” His eyes are twin storms, but Hera does not back down.

“I did what I thought to be best. I will not be chided by you, for you know my actions were necessary and ended with the best results.”

“My son fell into Tartarus because of your meddling!”

“Your son fell into Tartarus because of Athena and his love for her child. That was not my choice, and do you not think I would have pulled them from that path if my head had not been split? No child deserves that fate.”

His face settles to stone. “You forget, brother, I am the goddess of family. My family was in danger—”

“Family?” He hisses. “Family means nothing to you. _Nothing_.”

“Do not speak of family to me,” She seethes, “When you turn behind your wife's back and sire child after damn child! I have made mistakes with my family, I have, I have! And I regret them, but you, _you Poseidon_ , you only care for the family who has given you the most.”

“You love Percy because he made you look even more like a king! Birther of heroes, _φέρνοντας ήρωες_ , that’s what you wish to be called.” His lip curls. 

“ _I love my son._ I love him because I, like you, made mistakes. I love my son, because skies dammit, his mother was always working and only the stars know how little love that stupid son of a bitch Gabe Ugliano offered to this poisoned world.” His hands shake in front of her, inches away from the cloth of her chiton. Her eyes soften, and he looks away, the tears welling.

“I just want to fix this. I want to be there. I want to make due on my promises, be a good fucking father for once in this miserable existence,” He whispers. His voice rises. “I heard them, Chaos, in my head. _They_ are the reason my son is out of my reach!”

He whirls, throwing his powerful body around as the trident leaves his hand and embeds itself in a column. He heaves for breath, shaking. “A hundred laws. We swore over the scythe of Kronos, and with the blood of the sky and earth to uphold a hundred laws. My son is out of _my_ reach because of a hundred laws.”

Hera looked away from his shaking form, the ancient pain in her hand from the cut she made all those years ago on the dawn of the third age still there. “We didn’t know my brother.”

He looks at her, and the haunted look in his eyes she knows she shares. It is one of three things of appearance that binds her and her siblings. The other is the dark locks that come from their parents, and theirs before them, and from Chaos themselves. The other is the gleam of ichor that casts the glow of immortality. 

_Hera, Zeus, Demeter, Poseidon, Hestia, Hades. Rhea and Kronos. Gaea and Ouranos. Chaos. Gods. Titans. Primordials. Everything and Nothing._

_You are too much like your father, my children. Claim your own paths._ Mama had said once, long ago. The boys drew lots. Demeter ran to the grass. Hestia to the hearth. Hera longed for her family to be one.

He does not reply, he just returns to his throne, green eyes never leaving the three holes in the column, and the thousand spider-web-like cracks that spread from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No thoughts, just WandaVision and the Shadow and Bone Trailer.
> 
> GO WATCH THE NETFLIX SHADOW AND BONE TRAILER


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell them how I am defying gravity!  
> I'm flying high, defying gravity!  
> And soon, I'll match them in renown  
> And nobody in all of Oz  
> No wizard that there is or was  
> Is ever gonna bring me down!"

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

Song: Defying Gravity, Original Broadway Cast of Wicked

* * *

**XL - The Night**

**A Month Later**

* * *

The moon was bright.

That was all Thalia could think about as she snuck through the castle, her and her three companions wrapped in a layer of mist so thick that even she wouldn’t be able to see through it. She glanced at them.

Wills face was grim and focused, and the gold bow on his back an alien and unfamiliar sight. Will always liked to say he was a bad archer compared to his siblings—which was basically like saying he was the worst Olympic archer, but whatever.

Frank was close to Hazel, whose lips were pressed in determination and she manipulated the mist as they walked to their destination. Currently, they were en route to their dorms, the first group that was heading in to retrieve their weapons and armour they had left behind. 

Thalia whirled when she saw a flash outside. Spells were being fired at the house of the groundskeepers. Thalia looked at her companions and spoke sharply, “We’re right next to the astronomy tower. Let’s help. Hazel, drop the mist.”

Hazel did as she was told, and suddenly they were visible, but they didn’t linger. They rushed to the stairs, and once they got there, took the stairs two at a time. Finally, Thalia threw open the door into the night air, the great bow of a huntress already in hand.

* * *

**XLI - Bath of Moonlight**

* * *

Thalia Grace was glowing in the moonlight.

Harry Potter was absolutely sure of it.

She held a silver bow, pointed at the flashing spells on the grounds far below. Her eyes were narrowed, and the wind around her seemed to blow faster and stronger. She notched an arrow and aimed. Two of her companions, Frank Zhang and Will Solace, followed suit.

“Don’t hit Professor McGonagall!” Someone shrieked.

The smile that came across Thalia’s face was part malicious, part amused, part haughty. “I don’t miss,” she said, “And I’m not aiming for her.”

The arrow flew.

Harry saw a brief glint of it, the moon catching its silver shaft. But he saw clear as day the moment it embedded itself into one of the attackers, and the howl that came from the man as he fell to the floor and died.

Thalia continued to smile as the other arrows hit their mark. For a second, she seemed to be revelling in her triumph. Her eyes seemed to crack with electricity, and her smile was knife-like, the silver rays of the moon casting her in an unearthly glow.

For a second, Harry Potter saw her true nature. He knew she was a demigod, but there was a difference between  _ knowing _ , and seeing. Knowing is blind and sometimes misguided. Knowing is yellowing pages of a book of stories and its painting of heroes in their triumph, kings in their crowns.

Seeing is this. The huntress bathed in moonlight, her pale skin glowing. Her eyes so blue that they can't possibly be human, her hair pushed back by the winds. A smile so bright it blinds, the glimmer of ill intent and freedom.

For a second, he sees the Lieutenant, the Heroine, the saviour. The girl blessed and cursed, alive and dead, mortal and immortal. The illusion crashes though when the door is slammed open again to reveal a gaggle of ministry officials, Umbridge at the head.

She orders for their weapons to be put down, but the group doesn’t listen. Frank, surprising everyone, turns into a large eagle, and Hazel and Will jump on his back. They gesture for Thalia, but she’s looking everywhere but them. They're gone before the wizards can get over their awe and cast a spell.

Slowly, she backs up as the Wizards advance, bow still drawn. Harry remembers the other archer with a bow of silver that he had seen, and he wonders. Thalia, the girl of silver and spite, electricity shuddering down the shaft of her bow. The auburn-haired woman and her prophetic warnings.

“Surrender yourself, Miss Grace,” Umbridge says, “And you will be treated with respect.”

“Yes,” Thalia spits, paling slightly as she takes another step back and her foot hits the stone parapets behind her. Her bow lowers and electricity lights up in her eyes, making them glow white, “Like you did with,  _ Percy _ ?” 

Umbridge’s lip curls but she laughs, not answering the question. Thalia glances around, swallowing and her hand flexing on the grip of her bow. “Surrender, Miss Grace—”

“Call me Miss Grace again,” Thalia spat, the light in her eyes becoming even harsher, casting sharp shadows around her. Something in her had snapped, Harry could tell. Her bow came to draw again, an arrow is drawn in the blink of an eye. The rest of the students pressed back.

“Look, you vile, disgusting woman,” Thalia says. “You’ve angered gods far more powerful than you. I pray that you see the errors of what you’ve done, and perhaps go back before you find yourself drowning at the bottom of the ocean.”

“You’re cornered Miss Grace,” One of the other Ministry Officials said. 

Thalia glanced around. She bit her lip. She swallowed, “No I’m not.” She stepped back, her foot meeting air, and a scream from a student the only sound in the night air.

* * *

**XXLI - ~~Inch, Mile~~**

* * *

Thalia was going to scream.

The air was whipping around her, fast and unyielding. This should be her home. Her solace. This is her father's kingdom, and she is closer to him. She can almost hear his deep and powerful voice.  _ Thalia _ , he almost seemed to say,  _ you are a child of Zeus. You are at home _ .

Home. Her home was with the hunt. The feeling of bows in her hand, the pride when a young huntress gets her first kill. The light wind in her face as she would aim with her bow—

The wind in her face.

When she was running through the forest, her lady was at her side.

The wind in the mountains.

Wind.

Wind.

Wind.

And then it clicked, and the wind around her was solid. For a moment, Thalia just stood there, smiling and free. Her smile is gentle and perfect, the smile of a young child. A young child who had just discovered something new.

Thalia laughed.

She lowered herself down to the ground, and despite her happiness from the feeling of controlling the wind, she can’t stop the relief of solid ground beneath her. She looks up to the top of the tower and when she sees the people leaning over the edge, looking for her.

Thalia lets out another giddy laugh and disappears into the shadows, her light feet carrying her to the forest.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How many years  
> I know I'll bear  
> I found something in the woods somewhere"

### Part Five: Free of These Earthly Chains

_Despite small victories, burden and chains still lie on heroes' heads, the golden crowns of glory slipping with every curse._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Song: In The Woods Somewhere, Hozier

* * *

**XLIII - Possibility**

**A Week Before**

* * *

“Thank you again Mrs Weasely,” Amabilia said, taking another round of food from the woman.

“No worries dear! Have you gotten a letter back from Chiron yet?” She shook her head and glanced out the window again.

“We did get another one from Annabeth though,” Ciara said.

“Oh really? How are they?” Mrs Weasely said, sitting down with them.

“I think they're fine. They’ve figured out food so they don’t need to sneak into the castle again until they retrieve their stuff. I just think the constant worry of being found is getting on their nerves,” she replied, hands tightening around her mug of butterbeer.

Molly hummed. “I'll knit them some blankets so they don’t freeze.”

Ama smiled, “I think they’ll like that.”

“A letter for you,” a voice called from the doorway. They all turned to see Sirius Black in the doorway, a letter in hand and a grin on his face.

The girls had been beyond surprised to learn that no, Sirius Black was not a mass murderer, but after they got over the tension and awkwardness of it all, they found themselves liking him. He could understand the desperation of running away that Ciara had and the constant pressure of not being like every other pureblood that Amabilia had. It also may have helped that he too, was irreversibly in love with his best friend.

Ciara took the letter, opened it and read. Once she was done she smiled and said, “Chiron got back to us. He’s sending three to four people to help us out.” The room let out the tense breath they had been holding while she read. Nico had told them that he had, by some way, figured out that they would have to be the ones to rescue Percy.

“That's good,” Sirius said as Molly took the empty plates away. He sat next to them, fingers nervously playing at the hem of his shirt as he looked out at the grounds. “I hate this house,” he muttered.

“How’s Harry?” He asked suddenly.

Ama looked at her. “Last we saw him, he was good. Besides, you know, _Umbridge_.” Sirius laughed.

“I think I may have met her once, many years ago. All I remember is that she was just as unpleasant as Harry says she is.” His face was wistful for a moment, thinking about his godson.

“You miss him don’t you?” Ciara asked.

“Yeah, I do.” His face turned sad, “And his dad, he was my best friend.”

“I thought _I_ was your best friend.” Remus Lupin said from where he was leaning against the doorway.

“You too.” Sirius corrected, and Lupin snorted. Sirius stood up and walked to him, and after a brief exchange, the two walked out of the room, Sirius’s arm thrown across Lupin's shoulders.

“This is weird to say about our old professor but god they’re so in love,” Ciara said, causing Ama to giggle. “I love your laugh,” She whispered.

“Well, I love you.”

“I love you more,” Ciara said, pressing closer.

“Not possible.”

“Anything is possible, dear.” A slow kiss, sweet and steady. Possibility. Freedom. Love. “You just gotta look in the right way.” The hate of the outside couldn’t reach them here, “And you’ll find it.”

* * *

**XLIV - In the Woods**

**The Day After The Astronomy Tower Fight**

* * *

The cracking of leaves snapped Thalia back to the present, away from her daydream. Drawing her bow, she peeked through the heavy leaves around her. Through them, she could see a peculiar sight: Harry and Hermione were standing in the clearing, Umbridge not five paces behind them.

“Well,” The woman said, “What did you want to show me?” Her question was answered when an arrow, not from Thalia, landed right next to her. She yelped.

Thalia looked on in wonder as centaurs came out of the trees, bows drawn and pointed right at the group. The one at the front spoke to Umbridge, “Who are you?” Umbridge looked ready to piss herself, and Thalia suppressed her giggles.

“I asked you who you are, human.” The centaur growled.

“I am Dolores Umbridge!” She blurted. “Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts!” 

“You are... _from the ministry_?” the centaur said, eyes narrowing as the rest of them shifted restlessly.

“Yes!” She said, sounding flustered yet terrified. Thalia bit her lip and silently, jumped up into the tree for a better angle. “So be very careful! By the laws laid down by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, any attack by half-breeds such as yourselves on a human—”

“ _What did you just call us_?” A black centaur growled.

Thalia couldn’t help herself, so she cut in. “She called you a half-breed. It's one of the few insults she knows.” The centaurs glanced at her curiously, but Umbridge cut in again.

“Law Fifteen B states clearly that ‘Any attack by a magical creature who is deemed to have near-human intelligence, and therefore considered responsible for its actions—’” 

“‘Near-human intelligence’?” repeated the chestnut one, as the black one and several others trembled with rage and pawed the ground. 

“That is a grave insult, coming from someone like you.” The leader said.

“What are you doing in our forest?” Someone hissed.

“ _Your_ forest?” Umbridge asked, “You are only here because the Ministry allowed you to be—”

An arrow whizzed by her, and Thalia's bow was by now in hand. Umbridge shrieked and screamed, causing a round of raucous laughter to go up from the centaurs. Thalia would have laughed, had she not caught a flash of silver in the trees. Instead, she looked skyward.

“You filthy half-breed—” She was cut off by a choked noise escaping her. Thalia looked back at her to see a silver arrow as familiar as her own bed embedded deep into her leg. She screamed, but suddenly she was muted. She was still screaming but just couldn’t make noise.

The culprit was revealed only seconds later as a woman stepped out of the trees, followed by some ten or fifteen girls clad in silver. Their bows were drawn, pointed at the woman.

“I warned you once,” The woman at the front spoke. “I warned you. Yet you attack us. You draw the blood of _gods_. You attack us and for that, I will make well on my promise.” Artemis, the great huntress, drew her bow as Umbridge whimpered, and the rest of the hunt and the centaurs followed suit.

“No!” Thalia said, leaping from the trees. Artemis turned to look at her. 

“No?” She repeated back.

“Don’t, no—” Thalia regained her composure. “Don’t kill her.”

“Thalia do you know not what this woman has done to young Perseus?”

Thalia squared her jaw. “I do,” she growled. “But we can use her. A tool, a bargain.” Umbridge, still charmed to silence, was trying to protest. But Thalia had the sneaking suspicion that Artemis was bending many rules in being here.

Artemis cocked her head, looking at her lieutenant. Finally, she lowered her bow. “Very well. Samantha, Yrene, take her away. Heal her just enough.” Two huntresses stepped forward, and dragged the woman away.

It was the lead centaur who spoke first, giving a small bow to the woman. “Lady Artemis.”

Artemis looked at him and nodded. “This woman will never come into a forest again, most of all yours.”

“Thank you, milady.” He turned to Harry and Hermione, eyes narrowing and bow coming to draw again, “State your name and your purpose here.”

They did. “Look, we just wanted to get rid of her, we’re not ministry officials, were just students.” Harry stammered. The lead centaur gave them a once over but did not seem to deem him a large threat. The centaurs left.

“Thalia,” Harry said suddenly. “I think, Sirius, I think he's been taken by Voldemort, I need your help—”  
  


Thalia whirled, “What?” 

“Sirius, he’s been taken,” Harry said, face pale and eyes wide.

Thalia glanced at her lady. How she longed to join her side again, running through woods. Artemis looked at her, and smiled, nodding. _Finish this_ , she seemed to say. _The hunt will await you._

“Thalia,” she actually said. “Take your circlet again. I will be with you.” She snapped her fingers, and the familiar weight was on Thalia’s brow again. “What of Chaos. Nico told us—” Artemis held up her hand, signaling for her not to worry. Then they turned and ran, disappearing instantly.

“Please,” Harry pleaded. “Help me.”

“Where will you meet and when?”

“Ten minutes. Edge of the forbidden forest.”

“And how will we get there?”

“Er— we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Harry said.

Thalia smiled at him, “Go. We’ll be there.”

* * *

**XLV - Take Off**

**At the Same Time**

* * *

The help that Chiron sent ended up being a group of four people. There were the Stoll Brothers, who reminded everyone of the Weasley Twins with their shifting grins and eyes, a child of Hecate named Lou Ellen, and Will Solace’s sister Kayla.

The introductions were short and brief, only necessary information being traded. They didn’t need to know every little thing about one another, and that was fine. 

The demigods had brought Pegasi with them, six great animals corded with muscle and strength. They all were bedecked in their own light armour, and they waited outside in the square, nervously pawing at the stones.

After a quick lesson on how to get on and ride a Pegasi, the team set off to the department of ministries. Ciara, one of Ravenclaws beaters, didn’t find it too different from riding a broom, and the feeling of the wind in her hair was a welcome one as they flew over London, towards the ministry.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Words, how little they mean  
> When you're a little too late"

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

Song: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Taylor Swift

* * *

**XLVI - Rescue**

* * *

“Where are you, Percy?” Travis Stoll hissed under his breath.

He was silenced by glares from his companions. They had probably only been looking for their dear friend or classmate for less than an hour but every empty door and dead-end did nothing to help them.

They had started on level nine, all of them certain he wouldn’t be held on higher floors. The floor had been empty, so to preserve time, they went down a floor to the dark and decrepit halls of level ten.

They didn’t necessarily need the heavy mist of Lou Ellen, seeing as they were yet to run into a single person on this level, but it was a nice backup. They rounded yet another corner. And then they heard it; a scream.

The demigods straightened up immediately at the sound, and a familiar, yet very faint, wash of power lingered in these halls. “He’s close,” Kayla muttered. The rest of the group nodded. The witches, Ciara and Amabilia, reached for their wands. They took off, desperate as the screams continued.

They turned another corner. The power here was stronger, but they all knew he wasn’t in this hall. The screams were getting louder. One more, and it was loud enough that they knew he was here. “What’s going on?” Kayla asked, reaching for her bow.

“Only the gods know.” Lou Ellen said. “I’m dropping the mist, let’s go.” Nods.

The scream stopped suddenly, and they all knew that meant nothing good. “For the love of the gods!” Travis cried, voice breaking halfway through. Angry tears welled in his eyes.

They reached a door, only to find it locked. Desperate, Travis and Connon slammed against it over and over, until the lock broke and the door flew open, revealing an unconscious Percy Jackson tied to a chair. The next moments were a blur. A man, a wizard, was in the room and a furious Lou Ellen tackled him to the floor, slitting his throat.

Ciara and Amabilia exchanged glances as the demigods got to work around them. Kayla's hands were glowing white, her eyes and skin steadily following suit. Connor pulled out a wickedly curved knife and cut Percy's bonds. Lou Ellen stood over the man's corpse, face horrifyingly blank.

This was wrong, in every damn way. They were so calm, so impassively emotionless that Ciara and Ama had to take a step back. If this was demigods when they were angry…

The thoughts were dark and twisted, but all of that flew away when Percy’s eyes fluttered open. A babble of words came out of his mouth but Kayla ordered him to shush, and he did as he was told, biting his lip.    
  


His colour returned, and the sweat dripping down his brow grew less. Kayla cleaned the wounds the best she could, and Connor and Travis helped him up. He was quite tall next to them, both girls noted.

They let the three pass them out the door and they followed after. The group walked silently through the halls, coughs from Percy being the only thing that broke the silence. They rounded the corner, and suddenly, an explosion rocked the building, throwing them to their feet.

“Water,  _ now _ .” Percy snapped at Kayla as he struggled to his feet. She sighed, and dug it out of her bag, tossing it to him. He swallowed it and drew his sword.

“Percy…” Travis said nervously, cut off by a glare from Percy. His eyes were terrifying, burning with pain and anger. The lines of age had faded from his face and the light caught against a pale scar across his neck.

Travis bit his lip and Percy limped away, towards the elevators. It was obvious he intended to go into the fight, and they had no choice but to follow him. The man who was a hero, a prince, a leader, a bastard of one of the three great kings, a child of a broken line of betrayal and paranoia, who was broken by words but had lived to draw his ancient blade once more.

Perseus. Poseidon. Kronos. Ouranos. Chaos. 

Demigod. God. Titan. Primordial. Creator. 

_ Too much like his father. _

* * *

**XLVII - A Time of Betrayal and Snakes**

* * *

The fight of the Department of Mysteries was in full force when they reached the next floor. 

Spells were flying, and the ground trembled beneath them. White mist and black shadows lingered on the ground, ready and waiting for their masters. 

It was Annabeth who saw them first, her face breaking out into relief when she saw him, despite the blood and the limp. She ran to them, dodging spells and swords as she did. Once he saw her, he broke away from the group, allowing her to barrel into him.

Miraculously keeping his balance, they exchanged a tight hug. “What are you doing here, you need to rest—” Annabeth says, cut off as a spell lands inches from them, and the two of them lept out of its bite, falling to the floor. His sword slips his grasp.

“I missed you,” He says, as he grabs his sword.

Annabeth swallowed down her tears. “I know,” she said, voice breaking. “I know.”

They heard a yell and whirled to see Sirius get hit by a spell, loud cackling filling the air. Behind him, there was a veil that even from here, Percy could sense the darkness of. He was just about to fall in when a blur of black hit him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Nico di Angelo now stood in front of the veil, black sword brought to draw. He smiled, and the veil suddenly erupted, shadows and the wails of the souls trapped in it coming to serve their master, their king.

It was a terrifying sight, his eyes black and smoking, his sword of death,  _ Thnisimótita _ —mortality—in hand. Wails and screams of trapped souls warping and growing louder as the death eaters fell to their pestilence. 

Another scream, sounding more like a sob cut through the air. Annabeth and Percy looked at the noise, and Annabeth's jaw dropped and her heart swelled with pity as she saw the sight. Percy’s eyes narrow, hand flexing on the hilt of Riptide.

Amabilia had the gifted blade of Metis was pointed at a death eater, cheeks dripping with tears. The resemblance was so close to her, Annabeth knew it must have been her father. She remembered what Ama had said about him, the way she praised him for not being like other Purebloods.

But here he was.

Dressed in black and with the mask of The Dark Lords followers. Eyes strangely unfocused. “My daughter—” He tried, words somewhat slurred and forced. 

Annabeth saw the burning rage, saw the way the blade glimmered.  _ Athena, guide her, Metis, protect her _ , Annabeth prayed. There was no stop now, she thought darkly. Percy brought his sword up to deflect a spell, and stumbled. Annabeth caught him.

“ _ I AM NOT YOUR DAUGHTER _ .” She howled. 

“ _ NOT ANYMORE _ .”

“Ama,  _ please— _ ” 

“How could you. Turn to this, when this is what took Mom? Join the very thing that took her from us?” She shrieked.

“Ama, dear listen, please, the imperious cur—” Ama lunged forward, sticking the knife between his lower ribs, before the words could drown out the roar of her anger.

Time seemed to slow around the pair. His face twisted up into surprise, Amabilia’s face settled to stone. He crumpled, taking his daughter with him. His hands, shaking and bloody came up to cup her face and he whispered something to her. 

The situation hit Amabilia seconds later, her face paling. She looked at war with herself. “No,” She said, “I’m sorry, no, I didn’t— _ how, Papa, how _ —” she let loose a scream. 

“Plead for your father later, Amabilia Ventrence, and maybe he’ll get his mind back,” a voice spoke. It was cold and wrong in every way, sending shivers shooting up Annabeth’s spine. Slowly she turned, and the man standing there, mere feet from Harry, was horrifying.

His eyes were red, his skin pale and snake-like. Wrapped in the same fine blackness of his followers, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,  _ Flight of Death _ , smiled.    
  


“Hello,  _ godchildren _ . Come to fight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amabilia's father's story will be expanded upon in two of the remaining Missing Moments chapters. Both should come out on Wednesday.

**Author's Note:**

> Overall Notes For This Story:  
> -This story is entirely rewritten, so suggestions while loved, are not going to happen  
> -Any Homophobic or Racists comments will be deleted so just don't bother  
> -Questions that will spoil the plot if I answer will be politely declined, but please feel free to ask clarifying questions  
> -If you don't like something, such as the exclusion of Leo/Calypso, please don't complain to me  
> -Songs are there for fun! They may reflect whats happening in the chapter, the tone of the chapter, and one even appears in a chapter!  
> -Chapters every Friday and Monday, but if I do miss one please understand, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible  
> -Thank you so much for reading!!!!! :))))


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